


Pharah's To Do List

by nazgulkoopa



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Minor Character Death, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2018-08-11 06:55:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7880878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nazgulkoopa/pseuds/nazgulkoopa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a battle, Pharah realizes how much she couldn't bear losing Mercy and decides to propose to her. From that moment on, everything goes wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Get Her Home Safe

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt at a long, multi-chapter fic! Decided to do Pharmercy engagement fic because weddings are adorable and Pharmercy is perfect.

It was the building falling that did it.

Mercy’s armour helped with most bullets and energy bolts. As long as she could get out of danger, she was usually safe: her nanobots would patch her up, good as new. But a building falling on her was significantly harder to survive.

They were in Greece, in the city of Ilios. A group of rebels were attempting to take a number of strategic points in the city and Overwatch had flown in to assist the scattered Greek forces in repelling them.

The rebels were fans of explosives, and explosives meant that things fell down. So when Pharah’s Raptora systems saw the structural deficiencies start to worsen in a tower near where Mercy was stationed, she was quick to get on the radio.

“Alpha team, Olympic lighthouse is damaged and could fall soon. I recommend immediate-”

She was cut off by an explosion that caused the lighthouse to crumble.

Pharah immediately flew towards the freshly christened pile of rubble. She didn’t know what she hoped to accomplish, she only knew she had to try and save them. To save Mercy.

On her way down, the corner of her visor picked up Soldier 76 sprinting as far from the building as he could, Bastion rolling into tank form and Reinhardt charging into a nearby building. But there was no sign of Mercy.

“Angela!” she screamed, desperate and terrified. If Mercy was still under there, there was no telling what might have happened to her. Pharah’s mind immediately jumped to the worst. Was she trapped? Was she dead? If she was, would there even be enough left to bury?

Then she saw the wings.

“Angela! I’m here!” Pharah yelled into her radio, but she didn’t need to. Mercy had noticed her at the same time that she had noticed Mercy, and was rapidly flying towards her. A metal rod hit Mercy’s arm on the way out, causing her face to contort in pain, but all Pharah could do was thank the stars that the energy field in Mercy’s halo had stopped a shard of falling glass from lodging itself in her head.

Pharah caught her without a thought, wrapping her arms around her tight. Mercy was cursing in her native tongue and Pharah was breathing heavily and quickly, both in shock. They floated there for a few seconds until Pharah lowered them both to the ground, using the rubble to block them from active threats. Neither unhooked their arms from the other and the heaviness of their breaths only decreased marginally.

“Mercy. Mercy, copy.” came Soldier 76’s voice through the radio, accompanied by a hail of bullets and blasts. “Let us know you’re alright.”

“She’s fine,” Pharah responded, pulling her arm away to activate her radio. “well, she’s hurt. But I have her.”

“I am not badly hurt.” Mercy reached her good arm up to activate her own radio.

“Your arm,” Pharah said to her, tight. “it was hit.”

“The nanobots will fix it.” Mercy reminded her. “I will be fine, as long as I can give them a safe place to do it.”

Ana crackled through their radios. “She is safe, it seems. Do you need anything, Angela?”

Mercy looked to Pharah. Pharah shook her head. “I can get us to a safe place.”

Mercy responded into her radio. “No. Pharah and I have it handled.”

“Understood. Keep us updated if you’re coming back to the fight.” 76 requested.

“Will do.” Pharah agreed, preparing to take off. Mercy stopped her.

“Soldier 76?” Mercy asked. “Did everyone else get out?”

76’s pause froze them both with fear. Pharah mentally started a checklist. She’d seen Reinhardt and 76 make it out, and Bastion was probably fine. Who else was there? Thankfully, Soldier 76 stopped her thoughts with a breathed out “Yes, we are all fine.”

“Thank you, Soldier.” Mercy ended warmly.

“Finished?” Pharah asked, eager to get out of the active war zone. When Mercy nodded, Pharah tightened her grip. “Hold on.”

Pharah boosted the two of them back into the air. “Raptora. Find me a structurally sound house that is farthest from enemy units within a 2-kilometre radius from current location.” After a few seconds, a blinking blue point appeared in Pharah’s visor.

She immediately adjusted herself to fly in the direction of the point, careful to look around for hostiles and to keep a tight grip on Mercy. Mercy, for her part, folded herself into the protection of Pharah as much as she could with a hurt ( _broken?_ Pharah wondered) arm. A red blip appeared at the edge of her radar and she made sure to fly lower, using buildings to hide them from the blip. She began to consider ways she could adjust Mercy to get an arm free and fire a concussion blast, but they reached the house before the situation required it.

As they touched down, Pharah and Mercy separated for the first time since she’d gotten her out of the tower, so the two of them could run into the house. Red stained her armour where Mercy’s hurt arm had been, and though she was far past used to the blood of friends and allies, and knew that the nanobots would fix Mercy fine, it did nothing to slow her heartbeat. When they moved to the door and found it locked, Pharah kicked it down.

The house was unremarkable. Fairly modest, with a few basic amenities. The windows were boarded up and there was no sign of anything easily breakable, but otherwise everything looked to be a normal family home, a sign of rushed preparation before the evacuation. Mercy found an armchair in the corner, by one of the boarded windows, and set the nanobots up. For good measure, she ejected the plug on her armour and plugged it into the wall. Unsurprisingly, nothing came out; all of the electricity had been turned off when people were evacuated, before the fighting. She took out the plug and looked up at Pharah.

Pharah stood in the broken doorway, a picturesque defender. She had both feet planted firmly and stood tall. One arm was extended, ready to fire rockets. The other was at her side and ended in a fist.

“We are paying for that door.” Mercy said to her as she felt feeling come back into her arm.

Pharah chuckled, not turning to her. “Always with an eye for the civilians.”

“I am serious, Fareeha. We broke into their house, battle or not. We should make amends for that.” Mercy argued.

“I did not say I disagree.” Pharah attempted to diffuse. “We will take note of their house number when we leave to fly you back to HQ.”

“I am not going back to HQ,” Mercy informed her, as if there was never even a decision to make. “once my arm is healed, I am going out to keep supporting our allies.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You nearly got crushed by a lighthouse, you can’t just go back out there.” Pharah decided.

“ _Nearly._ I am fine. Or” she rubbed her arm. “I will be. And I need to make sure everyone is safe, and that we can be finished with all of this as quickly as possible.”

Pharah sighed. “We have Ana and Zenyatta taking care of people. We can handle it.”

“Fareeha, I can help, so I will. That is what matters.” Mercy said, determined.

That was the moment Fareeha Amari knew she wanted to marry Angela Zeigler. No, not wanted. Needed.

It wasn’t the willingness to run into danger, the unerring spirit of her dedication, or her compulsion towards compassion and support. In fact, it wasn’t anything about Angela. It was everything about Angela, it was Angela’s existence. Everything about Angela floored Fareeha, the idea that all this wonder and beauty and power could be fit into the package that was Angela was incomprehensible. The fact that Fareeha got to be with her was even more incomprehensible.

And to see all of that be put in danger every day was killing Fareeha.

Though she didn’t like to think about it, Fareeha knew she and Angela risked not coming home whenever they stepped onto the battlefield. She’d been acutely aware of that, even before they’d started dating. Angela was a healer, Fareeha was a flyer, that alone made them both high-value targets. The feeling of seeing her step back through the doors of whatever safe house they were using at the time was palpable; she felt it in her chest and in her bones. That feeling told her everything she needed to know.

She knew marriage wouldn’t just solve all of that. She knew that when she’d seen the looks on her soldiers’ spouses’ faces when they didn’t come home. But she needed something secure. Something recognizable. If anything ever happened to one of them, she needed something to prove what they’d been.

She needed to talk to Angela.

They’d been together nearly since they’d met, when Overwatch had reformed and Pharah had joined, about a year and a half ago. It only took them a month to recognize their feelings for one another. A few weeks more to talk about them. By the end of the next month, all of Overwatch knew.

Every stretch of their relationship, they’d emphasized communication. Fareeha had learned from her relationship with her mother how easily a lack of communication can complicate and destroy love. Angela knew the importance of communication from her work (“an unresponsive patient” she often said “is the easiest way for me to fail”). Therefore, they’d worked hard to keep all lines of communication open between the two of them. But Fareeha had no clue how Angela felt about marriage.

She knew Angela’s parents had always emphasized how important marriage was. But Angela’s parents had emphasized a lot of things she hadn’t agreed with, and they weren't exactly around anymore, so that didn’t say much. And while they’d had conversations about the future in some disconnected, far-off way, marriage had not come up. Fareeha knew she would have to start the conversation somehow and, ideally, without Angela catching onto what she was up to.

She heard Mercy stand. “You are finished?” Pharah asked her.

“Yes,” Mercy replied. “you’re not going to try to stop me from getting out there, are you?”

“Of course not.” Pharah eased, turning to her. “But I will be watching you more carefully.”

Mercy laughed a bit uneasily. “I have a whole team to protect me.”

“Well then, I’ll be watching for any stray buildings,” Pharah grinned as she offered Mercy her hand. Mercy made note of the house number on the pad on her arm, then accepted Pharah’s hand and opened her wings.

“Ready?” Pharah asked. Mercy nodded. They blasted off.


	2. Talk With Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pharah has a few conversations that are very encouraging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch as Fareeha and Angela do adult things (with various meanings of "adult").

The mission had been a success. They had held strong and pushed the rebels out of the city. No one had been killed or critically injured, and by the next day, the medics (well, Angela and the Greek Omnics) had patched them all up. They’d been commended by the mayor of Ilios, and the Greek president had personally introduced a bill to legalize all Overwatch activities in the country (the seventh such bill to have been introduced worldwide since the new Overwatch had formed. Only two had yet to pass). Mercy and Pharah had each performed remarkably well (“Told you so, Liebling, ” Mercy had said) and now all of Overwatch was back at their base in Gibraltar (Spain, which had owned Gibraltar since the Omnic Crisis, had been the second government of the world that had re-legalized Overwatch activities, allowing the new Overwatch use of their former home, Watchpoint: Gibraltar), waiting for the next mission. Oh, and the door had been paid for.

Fareeha found herself in conversation with Zarya as they lifted dumbbells together. This was a common occurrence, and as such, the two had quickly become friends.

“Zarya.” Fareeha started.

“Fareeha.” Zarya imitated.

“Could I talk to you about something?” Fareeha asked, cautious.

“I believe that was what we were already doing,” Zarya responded, amused.

Fareeha rolled her eyes but smiled. “Well yes. But it’s something you cannot tell anyone.”

“Oh, of course.” Zarya adjusted, suddenly more serious. “What is it?”

“Well, you see, I am attempting to work out how to ask Angela how she feels about marriage without her divining that I am planning to propose to her.”

“What?! You are planning to-” Zarya blurted, stopping herself mid-sentence.

“Yes,” Fareeha said, giving her a look for her near-blunder. “but only if she feels comfortable with me proposing. I don’t want her feeling forced to do anything she doesn’t want to.” Fareeha explained.

“Your commitment to consent is admirable,” Zarya said with a nod. “though I’m afraid my help may be limited. I have no experience with proposals, you’ll be shocked to find.”

Fareeha laughed. “I didn’t expect otherwise. However, I would like to be able to talk it over with someone, is all.”

“Reasonable.” Zarya paused. “Well, I imagine you would want it to come up casually. Steer the conversation in that direction.”

“Yes, but how? I am used to just letting conversation flow with her.” Fareeha furrowed her brows.

“Well, it would not have to be…” Zarya took a moment to search for the word. “Manufactured. You could simply talk about something like family and take the moment when it comes up.”

“With us, conversations about family have a very different tone than conversations about marriage.” Fareeha reminded her.

“Oh, yes. Of course.” Zarya said, remembering previous discussions she and Fareeha had had. “Well then, it does not have to be family. It could be, I don’t know, taxes.” Fareeha laughed. “Whatever, you get the idea.” Zarya placed down her dumbbells.

“Yes, I do.” Fareeha placed hers down as well. “How should I phrase it?”

“Phrase what? The question?” Zarya asked as she moved to the lat pull-down machine. Fareeha took the seat next to her.

“Yes. I cannot just say ‘would you want to get married?’ That’s essentially a proposal in itself.”

“Well have you had a conversation about your future together?” Zarya asked as the two of them set up their weights.

“Not really. Not seriously.” Fareeha responded, considering.

“That could work.” Zarya offered.

“Yes, it could.” Fareeha nodded and smiled. “Thank you, Zarya.”

Zarya shrugged, pleased with herself. “What can I say? I am an expert with the ladies.”

Fareeha laughed. “That is something I do not doubt.”

Zarya nodded, then locked eyes with her, her face appearing more serious. “Additionally, Fareeha. If it does happen,” she broke into a grin, “I expect an invitation to the wedding.”

Fareeha laughed again. “Of course. You’ll be the first to get one.”

 

Angela was working on some new medical technology after patching up the team and was, therefore, unavailable until after dinner.

As they left the table, Angela linked her hand in Fareeha’s. “I was wondering if I could talk to you in our room,” Angela asked. Fareeha's face must have looked worried, because Angela added “don’t worry, you are not in trouble.”

“Of course. Now?” Fareeha asked, telling herself it was nothing to be nervous about.

“Yes, I think so,” Angela said with a warm smile.

Angela pulled her in the direction of their room (formerly just "Angela's room") and closed the door behind them when they reached it.

“I wanted to talk about the last mission,” Angela explained as they sat down on the bed, hands slowly coming apart. “It was pretty scary for both of us, I think, and I wanted to make sure we were alright.”

“Oh, yes,” Fareeha responded, deflating slightly. “Yes, good thinking.” She paused. “For me, I was certainly worried, as you know. But you proved your point that it ended up fine.”

Angela smiled. “Yes, just, about that,” it was her turn to take a pause as her face became more serious. “the way you reacted to my desire to go back into the fight was concerning to me.”

Fareeha realized the purpose of the conversation. “I realize that I can get a little bit intense around how...protectionary I can be. I just get anxious.”

“I know you get anxious,” Angela told her. “but I want to ease that anxiety, if I can. I can take care of myself, Fareeha. I promise I can. And sometimes, when you try to protect me, it feels like you forget that.”

A hundred thoughts bounced around Fareeha’s head of ways she should have or could have done better by Angela. Ignoring the fear and the guilt, Fareeha nodded, tensely. “Thank you for telling me that. How do I avoid making you feel that way?”

“Well, it’s,” Angela paused, searching. “It’s…okay. I will explain it like this. I like the Fareeha that wants to keep me safe from outside threats. But I do not like the Fareeha that tries to tell me what to do with myself. We have a captain, and that’s Jack. And while I know you have been a captain in your own right, you must understand that you are not here in that capacity, and that I do not want a partner who tells me what to do. I want a partner who wants me to be safe, yes. But I want a partner who asks. Who discusses. If there are boundaries in our relationship - which there should be, of course - I want them to be discussed and agreed upon mutually. By both of us.”

“And that applies to combat too,” Fareeha said, somewhere between a question and a statement of understanding.

“Yes, exactly. We do not just exist as a couple off of the battlefield. All of the feelings we have for one another are there too, so rules must exist there too.” Angela explained.

“That makes sense,” Fareeha agreed, looking off thoughtfully and then back at Angela. “I just have trouble with seeing you put yourself at risk. I worry about losing you every time we step out there.”

“I worry the same,” Angela explained. “But I know you are a capable and practised fighter, and I know that you know what is best for yourself. So I trust you. Just as you trust that your mother knows what is best for herself.”

“My mother has never known what is best for herself.” She corrected, with a smile. “But I feel inadequate trying to give her any advice, as I know little about being in her position.” She paused. “Ah, I see what you’re meaning.”

“I knew you would.” Angela said, pleased. “So yes. Do you understand why I don’t like it?”

Fareeha nodded, grabbing Angela’s hand with both of hers. “I will do my best to respect your knowledge and decision-making skills in combat, and discuss things with you if I am questioning something. Is that reasonable?”

“Yes, that’s all I’m asking for.” Angela breathed, satisfied. Fareeha removed one hand, leaving the other firmly with Angela. They stared at each other for a moment before Angela reached her head up and kissed Fareeha softly. When they pulled away, Angela could just see the slightest bit of a blush forming on Fareeha’s smiling cheeks.

“Is there anything that you need?” Angela asked softly. “Anything you wanted to talk about?”

“Well,” Fareeha started, then paused, realizing the opportunity. “not about yesterday. I mean, certainly, I had a lot of feelings yesterday. But I don't feel the need to discuss them right now. However, there was something else I had been wanting to talk with you about.”

Shit, she thought. So much for casual.

Angela looked up at her, her eyebrow raised openly.

She pushed on. “About the future. I mean, just generally, what you would see in your future.” She recovered awkwardly.

“Oh.” Angela said, surprised but not put off. “Well, I suppose I would work with Overwatch as long as they needed me, then, depending on my circumstance, find a position at a hospital, university or research facility and work on medical advancements until I retire.”

“Ah.” Fareeha answered. “That is a good plan. But I meant more...with us.”

“Oh!” Angela said, eyes widening with understanding.

“Yes!” Fareeha said, rubbing her neck and laughing nervously. “Just, we have been together for nearly a year and a half, and we have not talked so much about what we each would like.”

“Of course. That makes total sense!” Angela laughed quietly. Fareeha breathed out, relieved. She had known it was a completely reasonable thing to ask, and that there’s no way Angela would see it as anything different. But it was still relieving to see her smile at it.

“Well,” Angela started, “I think I am flexible. While I certainly love my home country, I am very willing to go to other areas of the world and find opportunities there. Most countries have places for medical scientists to work.

As for...other areas, I have given them some thought. I love you and I can’t imagine not being with you. So my priority, above all other things, is us being together.” She paused. “That said, my preference would be to get married, I think. Eventually, of course. And if you didn’t want to, I would have no problem with that.”

“But you would like marriage?” Fareeha asked, trying not to sound too excited.

“Well I mean,” Angela bit her lip briefly. “I have seen marriages work and I have seen them not work. So I don’t think we need one. But I love you and I would like to have it recognized. So yes.”

“Good. Well, I mean, good, because I would also like to marry you.” Fareeha told her. “Eventually, of course.”

Both of them seemed to sigh with relief in tandem, and then they began to laugh.

“All that worrying, just to agree.” Angela said between laughs.

“Yeah, really.” Fareeha agreed.

Once they had both stopped laughing, Angela, still smiling, asked “What about children?”

Fareeha took a second to think. “Not immediately. Eventually, perhaps. There are many feelings that I would need to sort out first.”

“Yes, I am similar.” Angela nodded. “I am fairly certain I would like them, but there would be a lot of considerations to go through before.”

“Absolutely.” Fareeha concurred. After a brief silence, she continued. “As for me, I would like to return to Egypt, at least for a time. I don’t know if I would go back to my security position, but I am a soldier. I think I would stay with Overwatch as long as I could.”

“I expected as much.” Angela said in an agreeable tone. “I could like Egypt. They have doctors.”

“We do, in fact.” Fareeha answered, and they both laughed again.

“I am glad we seem to have compatible plans.” Angela decided.

“As am I.” Fareeha put her arm around Angela, who put her head on Fareeha’s shoulder. “Though I admit, if our plans had not been compatible, I would have been prepared to change my plans to suit yours.”

“As would I have.” Angela said, smiling. “I suppose we are just too in love.”

“Of course.” Fareeha stroked her hair. “But then, how could you not be in love with me? Your perfect defender.” She grinned.

“You, my defender?” Angela rolled her eyes. “Do not forget who is your guardian angel.”

“I never would.” Fareeha assured, kissing the top of Angela’s head.

Angela turned her head towards Fareeha as Fareeha looked at her. She reached her head up and planted her lips softly on her girlfriend’s mouth. Fareeha kissed back, savouring the feeling of Angela’s lips and the smell of her hair. It quickly became apparent that neither woman was eager to pull away from the other, so they stayed like that, connected, taking each other in.

There were many feelings that Fareeha loved. She loved when she was able to have a comfortable conversation with her mother, where she walked away feeling that they had really understood each other. She loved whenever she was able to get civilians to safety on a mission and know that they would not be pulled into a fight they had not started. And she loved when she was able to help the scales of justice tip in favour of those who deserved it most, no matter how little of an impact she had made.

But none of these feelings held a candle to how much she loved kissing Angela Zeigler. When she got it, she never wanted to stop. The way Angela’s hair felt as her fingers combed through them, searching and exploring. How responsive Angela was to every little touch, how she could feel her lips curl into a smile and her head tip forwards and backwards ever so slightly. And her curves, perfect curves that she could trace with her palm (and did, over and over again). It was all the best sort of heaven she could ever imagine.

It wasn’t long before Fareeha had adjusted her position, turned over from their side-by-side seating to a much more comfortable seat: Angela’s lap, facing her.

Their lips also shifted, opening more and exploring eagerly. Sometimes teeth bit through. Tongues touched. The rest of the body followed their lead; grips tightened, heartbeats increased, hips bucked. It all pointed the compass in a very specific direction: horizontal.

Fareeha grabbed at Angela’s top. “On? Off?” She asked between kisses.

“Off.” Angela breathed. “Off, Fareeha.”

Fareeha also loved the way her name sounded through Angela’s lips.

Angela’s shirt came off quickly, Fareeha’s shortly after. Angela motioned for Fareeha to get up as she moved farther back on the bed. Fareeha took the moment to start undoing her jeans.

“Wait” Angela stopped her, reaching out. “Let me help you with that.”

Slowly, she undid the button and the zipper, grabbing the waist of her jeans with one hand and reaching past her undone jeans and her underwear. “May I?”

Fareeha breathed, a deep, satisfied breath. She attempted to grind her hips onto Angela’s fingers, but she kept them just out of Fareeha’s reach.

“ Mein Liebling , I need you to say something.” Angela explained, a controlled smirk on her face.

“Yes. Yes. Come on, Angela, please.” Fareeha pleaded.

Angela moved her fingers out slowly and pulled down Fareeha’s pants fully. “Come here, and maybe I will fulfill your request.”

Fareeha was on top of her almost immediately, kissing Angela down onto the bed until they were both vertical and Angela was inching her hand back towards Fareeha’s underwear.

“Fuck, Angela.” Fareeha said as two of Angela’s fingers slid inside. The fingers meandered down a well-known path, causing cut-off noises to come from Fareeha. “Come on. You’re stalling.”

“Do you think it is wise to accuse me of such things?” Angela began to slide her fingers back out.

“No, no. I take it back, just,” Fareeha interrupted herself with a noise as Angela slid back in and connected with her clit. “Please. Please.”

“Mmmm.” Angela smiled. “You know I like it when you plead.” She rubbed Fareeha’s clit, causing a moan. “Tell me Fareeha, how’s this?”

She moved her two fingers out slightly to allow another finger to join them as she slid them all back in, and Fareeha responded with a moan.

“You know very well how that is.” She quipped between breaths.

“Hm?” Angela feigned ignorance. “An unresponsive patient is-”

She was cut off by Fareeha’s “oh my fucking-” which was itself cut off by Fareeha’s moan as Angela stroked Fareeha’s clit.

“That’s good. Yes. I’m going to need you to be vocal, Fareeha. Or else we’ll never get anywhere with this.” Angela pulled back, teasing.

“Yes. Yes, okay. Whatever you want.” Fareeha pleaded.

“Perfect.” Angela grinned and redoubled her focus on Fareeha’s clitoris while moving in to kiss her.

The next few minutes were significantly less vocal, as both Fareeha and Angela found their mouths occupied with more important things than talking. However, every so often, Angela would swallow a moan that gave her exactly the response she had asked for. Every so often, Fareeha would try to adjust her hips to get a better angle on Angela’s fingers, and sometimes she’d oblige. If she disapproved of something Fareeha did, however, she would click her tongue and move out her fingers slightly, until Fareeha had rectified her misconduct. This cat and mouse game had Fareeha inching closer and closer to the edge of orgasm until she could feel herself straddling it.

“Finish me.” Fareeha asked, Angela having moved down to plant marks along Fareeha’s collarbone. “Please, finish me.”

“I am having fun, Fareeha.” Angela explained, releasing herself from Fareeha’s skin. “Would you deny me that?”

“Only for just a moment, dear. Only to - ah, ah, ah.” Fareeha found herself unable to finish her statement as Angela prepared to give her what she’d asked for.

Angela quickened her movements inside Fareeha, stroking and pinching and rubbing until, finally, Fareeha let out a loud, potent noise that let Angela know exactly how well she'd done. She slowly removed her fingers, while the two of them looked at each other, all read faces and heavy breathing.

“Hey, Angela, Fareeha!” Hana’s voice came from outside the room. “If you’re done having sex or whatever, Winston found us another mission, we gotta go get briefed!”

Both women froze immediately and breathed out deep sighs. “We’ll be there in a second, Hana!” Angela yelled.

They disentangled themselves and began to pull their clothes back on.

“That was...wow. As usual.” Fareeha decided as she grabbed a new pair of underpants and pulled them on.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Unfortunately because I” - Angela paused as she put her head through her shirt - “took my time, you owe me something another time.”

“Of course.” Fareeha nodded, pulling her pants back on.

“Damn interruptions.” Angela grumbled as she put her arms through the holes.

“You know,” Fareeha joked as she made final adjustments to her shirt. “I have heard that this is what being a mother is like.”

“Well then” Angela responded, going to the door. “I think you had better go apologize to your mother.”

Fareeha laughed and followed her out. They grabbed hands, ready to be briefed, and to face the many staring faces that would surely be grinning and cracking jokes about what they’d been up to.

Let them stare , Fareeha thought, they have no idea how lucky I am.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed "two 30-something women communicate deeply about their relationship issues then have sex". :P I'll get another chapter up in the next week hopefully! Also, feedback is very appreciated :)


	3. Make a Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fareeha gets distracted...and some help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fareeha got distracted and so did I, whoops! Anyway, enjoy this. Ring shopping and proposal next chapter, I promise!

In fairness to Faheera, she wasn’t exactly wrong when she thought that. It was just that everything from that point on conspired to make her statement a lie.

 _No idea how lucky I am_ , she had thought, right before getting briefed on a mission that was actually a series of missions that would keep them all engaged for several weeks.

To make matters worse, the main mission was an infiltration, which Pharah was experienced with but despised. The risks, she thought, were too high, and the process was gruelling. Worse still, Pharah would be separated from Mercy and Ana.

Pharah, along with Tracer and Genji, would be part of the recon team for the first two weeks, while Mercy and Ana would be planning the infiltration back at Gibraltar with their information.

The target was Eichenwalde, a castle in Germany housing the remains of Balderich von Adler, the leader of the Crusaders in the Omnic Crisis. The castle had recently been seized by FLO (Front de libération des Omnics), a French-based Omnic terrorist group that spawned from anti-Omnic sentiment after the Crisis. The FLO had taken Balderich’s remains and were planning to destroy them in a month and a half, on the anniversary of the day the Omnics declared war on humanity.

The German government had put out a bounty to anyone who was able to get the remains back, but had otherwise been unable to assist due to more pressing military campaigns. Overwatch, pushed by dwindling funds and encouraged by Reinhardt, had decided to take on the mission.

And that was why Pharah found herself in a rented safe house in Stuttgart with Tracer and Genji, just after they’d taken images of the first few lines of defense.

Tracer sat on one of the kitchen counters and stirred a pot of the Overstew, a dish that had been originally put together by the new Overwatch. Everyone had submitted an ingredient or flavour and, after some tweaking, it had become a staple in the Overwatch household, and on missions when agents wanted to remind themselves of home.

“You seem grumpy tonight, Pharah. What’s going on?” Tracer asked, careful to use her call sign due to the nature of their location.

“Hm?” Pharah looked up from the carrots she was chopping. “Oh. Uh, it’s nothing. I’m just missing home, I suppose.”

“Yeah, I can feel that,” she agreed, reaching over and dumping the green onions Genji had passed her into the stew. “It’s not the same being away without everyone. But hey, at least we’ve got each other!”

Pharah nodded, trying to take on Tracer’s optimism but falling short.

“I think, Tracer, that Pharah is missing specific people in Overwatch more than Overwatch as a whole.” Genji offered cheekily.

Pharah laughed quietly. “A bit of both, I think.”

“Ah!” Tracer said, sliding down the counter towards Pharah. “Ana? Mercy?”

“Again, both.” Pharah stayed looking at her knife as Tracer talked to her left.

“Makes sense,” Tracer said. Pharah expected that to be the end of it, but Tracer simply laid down on the counter. Pharah could feel her eyes on her.

“How _are_ things with the doc?” Tracer asked, grinning.

“Good, from what I hear,” Genji added. If Pharah had to guess, she’d say he was sharing in that grin.

“Since when did you two get so nosy?” Pharah diverted, walking over to the stew and dropping in her carrots, trying not to look at either of them.

“We’ve always been like this.” Tracer admitted shamelessly. “Genji, Liao and I were known as Gossipwatch by the end of it.”

Genji nodded in confirmation.

Pharah shook her head. “You are ridiculous. But things are very good with Mercy, if you must know.”

“We always must,” Genji said, sitting up on the counter on the opposing side of the stove from Tracer.

Pharah looked between them. “Don’t you two ever sit in chairs?”

“Chairs are boring.” Tracer informed her. “But back to Mercy. How long have you been together now?”

“A year and four months,” Pharah said without pause. The length of the relationship was a thought often on her mind, recently.

“Blimey! You’ll be tying the knot soon.” Tracer said, sliding back over to keep stirring the pot.

Pharah went back over to chop more vegetables and said nothing. She tried not to give anything away from her face.

“Wait, you’ve thought about that,” Genji said, sitting up.

_Fuck._

“Has she?” Tracer asked, then answered, “Oh, she has!”

_Double fuck._

“It’s not exactly abnormal for couples who have been together for some time to have thought about marriage.” Pharah attempted to brush it away desperately.

“Then why do you look so guilty about it?” Tracer pointed out, grinning wide.

“Well, I…” Pharah stumbled, leaning against the counter across from Genji and Tracer and tipping her head back in defeat. “Yes, alright, I’m planning to propose. You hap-”

She stopped herself when she saw the look of shock on Tracer’s face. Tracer looked over to Genji, mouth open wide. Genji looked back, clearly just as shocked. Tracer’s face then broke out into a grin, and then she yelled with excitement.

“Oh my god, that’s so exciting!” Tracer said with a giggle, jumping off of the counter. She went right up to Pharah, who was still ringing from the yell and embarrassed from her reveal. Genji had also jumped off and she was soon surrounded by tiny, excitable cyborgs.

“When?” Genji asked, pleased with her embarrassment.

“I was planning to do it within the next few weeks," Pharah explained, "but then the mission came along and..." she trailed off.

“Ah, so that’s why you’ve been grumpy,” Tracer inferred.

“That’s not the only reason,” Pharah repeated, “but yes, it wasn’t exactly a welcome surprise.”

“Well let us help you!” Tracer offered.

Genji looked at her, then back at Pharah. “I would be willing to help.”

Pharah paused and considered. “I don’t know how you two would be able to help.”

“Have you bought a ring yet?” Genji asked.

“No, but-”

“Have you decided how you’re going to do it?” Tracer cut in.

“No, but-”

“Then we can totally help you!” Tracer decided. Genji nodded.

Pharah sighed, then laughed. “Fine. You can help.”

“Yes!” Tracer offered a high five to Genji, which he accepted.

“But you can’t tell a soul!” Pharah amended, punctuating her sentence by pointing at each of them.

“Yeah, yeah!” Tracer waved her away as she went to the stew and tasted it before turning off the burner. Pharah reached up to the cupboard and grabbed three bowls.

The dinner that followed was good, Pharah was glad for both the food and the company as the three of them discussed home and the proposal.

A plan soon began to emerge. Once the assault on Eichenwalde had been completed and everyone was back at Gibraltar, Fareeha and Genji would sneak out one day to go to a ring shop while Angela was working, while Lena would stay back and make up an excuse as to where Fareeha had gone (Lena, it was decided, could not be trusted to decide on an engagement ring). Once this was secured, Fareeha would figure out a time to take Angela out to dinner in the nearby city of San Roque and propose to her there. She would then message Lena and Genji who would be waiting back at Gibraltar, and if Angela said yes, they would immediately set to work organizing a small celebration for when they returned.

“It’s foolproof!” Tracer decided, excited.

“It’s a good plan.” Genji agreed.

“As long as everyone sticks to their roles, it should go well.” Pharah concurred.

* * *

 

Of course, before the flawless plan was to go off flawlessly, there was still the issue of the infiltration. Tracer, Genji and Pharah’s reconnaissance duties ended after another week, when the rest of the agents came to join them in the safe house and prepare for the attack.

Though she was happy to see them all, Pharah had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach knowing they were running headfirst into danger the next morning. Seeing Mercy and Ana would have felt a lot more rewarding if she hadn’t known she would be separated from them tomorrow with no communication.

The plan was to trick the Omnics. Part of Overwatch would sneak in and steal the remains, while the other part would fake an outright assault to bring all Omnics to the front lines. Bastion would use information recovered from a dead Omnic to pretend to be one of the hostile Omnics and go “defend” the remains. Tracer would be part of the infiltration, using her knowledge of the surroundings to lead Hanzo, Ana, Junkrat, Roadhog, Mercy and Symmetra to the remains and help take them. The assault on the castle would take notice away from Junkrat as he exploded the door, Roadhog would take the remains and Ana, Hanzo and Symmetra would cover his escape. Mercy was there to support in case of injury or discovery.

The plan made sense, even if Pharah didn’t like it. Attacking the Omnic-controlled castle would not be in Overwatch’s favour; the fortifications she, Tracer, and Genji had discovered told them as much. It was just that their safest plan put the two most important people in Pharah’s life in mortal danger, and without anything she could do about it.

Mercy placed her hand on Pharah’s shoulder. “We will be fine.”

“Trust us, we know our way around infiltrations,” Ana calmed. Both Mercy and her wore specialized outfits, designed by Torbjorn to avoid detection by Omnics.

“I do,” she assured them. “I do trust you. Good luck out there.”

Mercy kissed her. Ana hugged her. Then they walked over to their group and ran out of the hanger.

 _They can take care of themselves,_ she thought as she watched them run off into the early morning darkness. _They are competent and skilled and you can’t always be personally backing them_.

“Alright.” Soldier 76 interrupted her thoughts. “Remember the plan. We create as much noise as we can, draw as much of their force as we can and get them as far away from the castle as we can, without giving them any knowledge of what we’re really doing.”

“Easy.” McCree joked.

“This is of vital importance.” 76 looked directly at McCree. “We will not let them discover the stealth team.” Pharah could see 76’s forehead scrunch up, telling them all that he was not to be trifled with.

“Commander, you know I have a vested interest in keeping them safe,” McCree responded, staring right back with a face just as serious. It occurred to Pharah that they all had loved ones who they were separated from due to the plan. In addition to Pharah with Mercy and Ana, McCree was separated from Hanzo as Winston was from Tracer. All of them would be out there doing everything they could, they just had to hope it was enough.

“Yes, well, we need to be careful.” Soldier 76 settled. “Is everyone ready?”

There were nods and no words. Pharah was never quite sure whether she loved or hated this bit.

“Alright, let’s go give ‘em hell.”

The next few hours were a whirlwind of activity. Their tactic was to push forward and let themselves be pushed back by the waves of the Omnics. They tried to strike a balance where they would remain threatening enough to convince the Omnics to keep chasing them, but not push so hard that they would move closer to Eichenwalde.

It was working quite well; they’d pulled a decently sized force. Pharah boosted up to hit the Omnics in the back, when she spotted a Bastion unit configuring into turret form.

“Turret!” She yelled, causing Reinhardt to throw up his shield. The turret then turned its view towards Pharah and began firing before she had time to move. Just as the bullets reached her, however, a pink filter appeared that blocked the shots until she had time to fly down behind Reinhardt’s shield. She landed beside Zarya and fired a rocket into the Omnic crowd.

“Thank you.” She acknowledged. Zarya nodded in response.

The Omnics were tough, and it was not hard to see why a direct assault would not have worked. There were at least two Omnics for every Overwatch agent, with the knowledge that there were many more back at the castle. And while Overwatch was not necessarily ruthless, the Omnics were. Several suicide charges needed to be stopped and there were enough explosives that you could be forgiven if you assumed Junkrat was with them. Pharah was starting to have doubts about their ability to hold a force of this size when their communicators ignited with noise.

“The remains have been transported.” Ana’s voice came in.

“Alright, let’s move out.” Soldier 76 ordered as they began to cover their retreat. Pharah fired a concussion blast at the Omnics to disrupt their firing as Overwatch retreated behind Reinhardt’s shield.

The Omnics soon stopped giving chase and ran back towards the castle, and it wasn’t long before the Overwatch agents were running into the hanger of their plane. As soon as Pharah made it in, Mercy and Ana ran towards her and hugged her. The plane lifted off as she squeezed back, glowing in the touch of her family.

“Are you alright? Do you need healing?” Mercy said as she pulled away.

“I have extra cartridges,” Ana added.

“I'm fine, don’t worry.” Pharah calmed as she pulled off her helmet. “We had the easy job. Are you both alright?”

“Yes, it all went exactly as planned,” Ana explained, “old Balderich is over there in the corner.” She pointed.

Pharah looked over and sure enough, there was the hunk of armour and flesh, perched in a half-fallen position of former glory. Her view was soon blocked by Tracer running across, her hair freshly ruffled, presumably by Winston who chased her through.

Pharah smiled and continued to look around as people reunited. McCree had his arm around Hanzo, Lucio was talking excitedly to Symmetra (who listened with amused appreciation), and even Junkrat had started up a conversation with Torbjorn, presumably about the technology used in the assault, judging by his hand motions. The room was abuzz with cathartic expressions of love, and all Pharah could think of was how much of a family they’d become.

“Great job, everyone!” Soldier 76 projected, causing the room to fall quiet within a few seconds. “We’re on our way back to Stuttgart. Tomorrow, Reinhardt will take our payload to the German government while we head back home. Thank you for all your work, this should hopefully give us a few days break before our next mission.”

Cheers and yells of excitement trickled in from the assembled agents as 76 backed out of the center of the room. Pharah looked over to Ana and Mercy. Mercy smiled at her.

“I believe I have to go connect with Jack,” Ana said, gracefully backing herself out of the grouping. “I will talk to you two later.”

Pharah responded with a thankful “Talk to you later, _ummi_.” and Mercy with a polite “bye!” before they turned to each other.

“Hey,” Pharah said with a smile.

“Hi,” Mercy responded with the same.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Pharah told her.  
“I am too,” Mercy agreed. “And I’m also glad you’re alright.”

“Yes, well, I had to make it back home to you,” Pharah explained, the slightest grin on her face.

Mercy looked away for a second with a smile before pulling Pharah down to give her a kiss, her arms reaching up to settle behind Pharah’s neck. She pulled away after a second but left her arms resting there.

“Having you back is all I ask for,” she informed her. “Though I may also ask you to take a shower,” she pulled away, waving her hand in front of her nose. “No offense, _mein liebling_ , but you stink after a battle.”

Pharah laughed. “That can be arranged.”

As they continued to chat and the plane continued to fly, Fareeha thought about Angela, and about the mission. She also thought about what was to come next, both for Overwatch, and for the two of them. What Jack had said about the next mission boded well, but she needed to act fast. She’d already been delayed, and now that she had a secure plan, she didn’t want anything getting in the way of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for all your feedback so far! I hope you enjoyed this chapter even though it wasn't exactly what I originally said it would be. Your comments have been awesome and have motivated me to keep writing, so thank you for that! Critique is, as always, super welcome as I continue! Again, you can find me on Tumblr at nazgulkoopa :)
> 
> (Also, bonus points to anyone who knows what the "FLO" was a reference to. Hint: Think Canadian.)


	4. Propose to Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fareeha tries so hard to make everything go smoothly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hey everyone! I am back after a 6.5 million year hiatus.
> 
> Sorry about the long ass update time - I got swamped with all sorts of things for a long time. But the chapter is finished, it's long, I have the next one outlined and the rest of the fic plotted out.
> 
> If I'm honest, I don't know when the next chapter is gonna come out? But I'm trying to set a deadline of a couple weeks to a month.
> 
> Thanks for all the encouraging comments and kudos! Enjoy this chapter!

It was difficult not to feel that you were spying on someone when you were, in fact, spying on them.

In this case, the spy: Fareeha. The target: the agents of Overwatch, especially Angela. The information: their current location and occupation, as much as it related to Fareeha’s ability to buy a ring.

Genji had informed her that most of Overwatch was currently watching Reinhardt’s press conference after returning Balderich’s remains. Sure enough, when she peeked around the corner she found them overflowing all the couches, with pillows thrown on the floor and chairs brought over from the kitchen. On the armchair she found Angela squished between (on top of?) Hana and Lucio, her arms around the both of them, watching Reinhardt with contentment.

Fareeha ducked behind the wall and smiled before taking out her communicator. She sent a message to Genji and Lena telling them it was time, and for Genji to meet her by the side exit of Gibraltar.

Lena responded with a resounding “Roger that!” and Genji with a “See you there :-)”, and Fareeha soon met up with him. The two of them moved quickly to one of the hovercars.

“So how are you going to decide?” Genji asked once they were driving.

“On the ring?” Fareeha clarified, not taking her eyes off the road, “I guess I was going to see if I can find a gemstone in a colour she likes and a design that I think she’d like.”

”Hm.” Genji responded, looking away slightly.

“Is that not enough?”

“Well, it's fine,” Genji explained, “but this is something that will stay with you the rest of your life. I would go with something more than fine.”

“What do you mean?” Fareeha questioned.

“Well, your criteria is important. But there are lots of rings that can fit it. You want something that fits Angela perfectly. Something that you could see her wearing forever.”

“How am I supposed to tell that?”

“You will know it when you see it.”

Fareeha chuckled, at the predictable Genji-type answer. “How long will it take?”

“Well, if we’re back in Gibraltar before six I’ll be surprised.” Genji explained.

“And the price?” Fareeha raised an eyebrow towards him.

Genji chuckled. “Also a consideration, of course. But you don’t need to look at diamonds to find the perfect ring. There are many wonderful rings that use cheaper gemstones, and they bring down the price a lot.”

Fareeha smiled. “Good to know. Thank you.”

“Always happy to help.” Genji returned.

The car was silent. Genji looked out at the road, transfixed on nothing in particular. A thought rolled over in Fareeha’s mind, until she looked to him and spoke.

“You have experience with this, don’t you?”

Genji shifted in his seat. He looked out at the road and breathed deeply, recalling a memory. “Yes, I do.” There was something mournful in his voice that Fareeha had not expected. She did not push.

They didn’t say much the rest of the ride, and eventually pulled up to the shop Fareeha had researched.

Fareeha hesitated before getting out of the car. All of the worries and concerns about getting married she thought she had dealt with seemed to hit her at once. What if they weren't ready? What if Angela thought they were going too fast? What if Overwatch made them too busy for this? What if, what if, what if-

“Hey.” Genji stopped her. “We don't have to do this. We can always wait until you’re ready.”

Fareeha breathed, calming her anxious thoughts. “It’s not that I’m not ready. It’s just that it’s such a big decision.”

Genji nodded. “It is. But these hesitations are normal. Do not let yourself get wrapped up in the ‘what ifs’ and the inconsequential ‘but’s. If you want to be with Angela for the rest of your life, and she wants the same with you, then this is the right decision.”

Fareeha stared at him for a second, letting the thoughts fade away before steeling herself. “Okay. Then let’s do this.”

They stepped out of the car and walked into the shop.

“Hola, Hello!” One of the workers greeted them.

“Hi,” Fareeha returned as Genji and her walked up to him, “I would like to buy a ring.”

“Okay. One ring, or two?” He asked, looking between Fareeha and Genji.

“Oh!” Fareeha realized, embarrassed. “Just one. An engagement ring. For my girlfriend.”

“I'm here as support.” Genji clarified.

“Ah, of course,” the man recovered. “Well, come along then, let's see if we can find you the perfect one.”

The two of them followed him to where rings were on display, and Fareeha got a look at his nametag: Luis.

“So tell me, what is your girlfriend's name?” Luis asked.

“Angela.”

“Ahhhh, Angela. An angel.” He offered.

“I suppose you could say that.” Genji teased.

“Well how would you describe Angela?” He questioned, looking at Fareeha.

Fareeha paused, looking off to the side. “She is” Fareeha searched, “She’s like clouds. Soft and bright and soaring across the sky, in this way that’s both,” another pause, “floating and untamable.” Fareeha seemed to hit her stride and smiled. “She is quite a force of nature. She brings life and banishes sun-fire. But she doesn’t seem that way. To see her is to see everything, life, death and rebirth, but to think of it only as whimsical. Like shapes and resemblances.”

“You are a poet,” Luis decided.

“Hm?” Fareeha came back and looked at him with confusion. “Oh. No.”

“Everyone is a poet when in love,” he countered, smiling. “And that poetry gives us something to go with! Hm…” he considered, looking at the rings. “We’ll want to go for a brighter colour. What about white? We have a design here that’s made with a beautiful white opal that might work very nicely.”

Luis held up a gold ring with a large, circular opal in the middle. Coming from the opal were two wings that angled themselves out from it and up off of the ring.

“It’s pretty, eh?”

“Yes,” Fareeha agreed, looking down at it. “but it is a little too ornate. She, uh,” she paused. “She works with her hands.”

“Of course, of course. We have some similar rings with different, more practical designs.” Luis offered, ducking down into the cabinet.

“I’m not sure if a white gemstone is the best option,” Genji submitted. Fareeha looked at him, confused as Luis stood back up, “white gemstones often mean purity, yes?”

Luis nodded. Genji looked at Fareeha, who thought for a second.

She knew Angela well enough to know how much purity was a strategy she used to make herself unthreatening. As a medic, she would often be a target and be forced into violent situations, but by emphasizing herself as harmless and innocent, she could have others protect her better in those situations. They’d had many conversations about what it meant to take on an identity on the battlefield, and they’d both agreed that sometimes those identities needed to stay on the battlefield. And Fareeha also knew that certain other ideas of purity were very far from how Angela was.

“No, Genji’s right. It won’t work,” she admitted.

“Of course, no problem,” Luis said, a salesman’s smile on his face. “What colour would you suggest?”

“What about yellow?”

“Yellow!” Luis seemed to light up. “Interesting. Not as common. I’ll see what we have.”

He moved over to one of the other display cases and pulled out a silver ring with a large amber in the middle. The gem was surrounded by a ring of smaller sparkling gems that glinted around the amber’s sheen.

Luis placed it in Fareeha’s hand, and she stared at it for a second.

“It’s nice,” she eventually decided, handing it back to him. “But it doesn’t quite fit.”

Luis was not deterred. “Absolutely. Tell me, why don’t you pick one?”

Fareeha Amari is, as the poor Luis was to find out, a very determined woman. Luis stayed with them for at least another half hour, as they examined each ring. For some, Fareeha would decide against it on her own. For others, Genji would give advice and ask questions until she had decided against it. The three of them went through ring after ring until finally they were looking through a batch of citrine rings and Fareeha stopped.

“That one,” she said, pointing.

It was a silver ring with a thick band. The bright citrine gem in the middle stood out in a perfect oval, anchored by lines of silver that curled from the band to the edge of the gem. At the ends of these lines sat four studs of sapphire, one for each quarter of the gem. Small engraved designs danced up the lines, meeting with the band and illustrating half of it. Fareeha saw Angela in it instantly.

“How much?” she asked instantly as he passed it to her.

“1,300 Euro.”*

“We’ll take it,” Fareeha decided.

“Wait, wait,” Genji cautioned. “Shouldn’t we discuss it?”

“You said I would feel it when I see it. I’m seeing it, and I’m feeling it. It fits perfectly.” Fareeha explained.

“You think Angela will like it?” Genji tempered.

“Yes.”

“And you like it?”

“Yes.”

“And you will both like it for the rest of your nano-bot enhanced lives?” Genji teased.

Fareeha elbowed him lightly, smiling. “Smartass. Yes.”

Genji chuckled. “I guess that will be it then.”

Luis smiled. “Wonderful! Let’s just head over to the cash register so I can ring it up for you.”

Genji laughed. Fareeha shot him a questioning look.

“‘Ring’ it up. You get it?” Genji commented as they walked, looking to Fareeha. She once again elbowed him.

“Wonderful. So, can I get your phone number?” Luis asked as he moved behind the till.

“Why do you need my phone number?” Fareeha responded with concern. Her communicator couldn’t be used with civilian phones, and she didn’t want them accidentally calling Gibraltar and getting her found out.

“Well, we’ll need to call you when the ring is made so you can come pick it up,” he elaborated.

Fareeha looked to Genji and back to Luis. “But you have the ring here.”

“Yes, but we’ll need to make it in her size.”

“She is a size six,” Genji cut in. “That is one of the most common sizes.”

“Yes, but this is one of our more popular designs,” he explained. “We’re unfortunately out of the sixes right now, so we would need to get one made.”

“Fuck,” Fareeha cursed.

“Do you want to try somewhere else?” Genji offered.

Fareeha shook her head. “No, no. This one is the one that I want. Just,” she turned back to Luis, “if I’m away when it’s ready, how long will it be held for?”

“Until you pick it up,” Luis answered, confused but polite.

“For how long?”

“As long as necessary.”

“Weeks?”

“Yes.”

“Months?”

“Yes. Years, too.” He said with a non-threatening smile.

She smiled tightly in return. “Okay. Fine. But you’ll need to be careful when calling me. I live with her, you see.”

“Along with many other people,” Genji added, “we would not want one of them finding out.”

“Of course not,” Luis assured, “if we call, we will be sure to ask for Fareeha, and to only reveal who we are if you pick up the phone.”

“Wonderful,” Fareeha nodded.

She gave her phone number (sure to give the extension for her and Angela’s room), paid the amount (“you brought cash?” Genji had questioned. “I’d like to see someone try and rob me,” Fareeha had responded), and were soon out the door, carrying, at least, the assurance of a ring.

“Are you satisfied with your choice?” Genji asked as they began to drive home.

Fareeha kept looking at the road but pursed her lips in thought. “Yes, I think so. The ring is wonderful, but the wait time is frustrating. I can only hope that Jack gives us a week off, which I don’t find particularly likely.”

“Me neither,” he agreed, “But there’s no harm in doing it after the next mission.”

“I guess not. But,” she sighed, “a soldier’s work is never done. And if it’s this hard to just plan a proposal, how can we plan a wedding?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Genji encouraged, “Overwatch is an organization that thrives on improvisation.”

“Yes, well, some more than others,” Fareeha amended.

Genji laughed, robotic but not hollow.

“Thank you for coming with me today,” Fareeha looked over at him for a second. “You were very helpful.”

“I was glad to come,” He looked off, tracing the length of his thumb wistfully. A comfortable silence settled that was only broken when they walked through the doors of Gibraltar.

With the press conference behind them, the watchpoint was bustling, people moving in and out, occupying every space and level. As Fareeha walked from the foyer to the lounge, she noticed Winston grabbing from a cupboard, Satya fidgeting with the microwave and Lucio walking through, in deep conversation with Hana. On the couch sat Angela, who lit up when she saw Fareeha.

“Ah, there you are!” Angela stood and met her halfway through the room, greeting her with a kiss. “Lena said you were out shopping.”

“Yes, well, Genji and I both had things to get.” Fareeha answered, trying not to give herself away.

Angela looked between them and smiled. “Of course. But no bags?”

Fareeha hesitated. “Oh, uh,” she looked over to Genji, “I thought you were going to bring them.”

Genji met her eyes and nodded. “Ah, of course! I forgot. I’ll go grab them.” He said, leaving.

Fareeha breathed a small sigh of relief as she steered Angela towards their room and away from the soon-to-be-notably-bagless Genji.

“So I've been thinking,” Angela started, as they sat down on the bed, “since we have a break for a few days, and we hardly get the chance to actually date anymore, I was thinking we could celebrate by going out to dinner. Just you and me.”

“Oh yeah?” Fareeha smiled, then her eyes went wide.

A dinner was a perfect opportunity for a proposal, but if she couldn’t get the ring in time for the dinner, she’d have to wait for them to go out another night. For schedules to free up, and to avoid Angela thinking it was weird timing, it could take weeks. Once she had the ring in hand, risk of discovery would be high, and she didn’t want to wait that long.

“I would love to! However, I’ve already made plans today,” she attempted to recover.

“What about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow too,” she instantly responded.

Angela raised her eyebrow. “Well okay. The next day. You were trying to convince me to go to that festival that day.”

_Fuck._ She knew she couldn’t get out of that one. “Certainly! Okay. Let's do that.” _Fuck._

“It's a date,” Angela smiled.

_Fuck._

 

 

* * *

“Please, I need something,” Fareeha begged. Jack stared at her, confused.

“So you're telling me that after a several week long mission doing gruelling and exhausting reconnaissance work, you want me to give you a mission and send you back out in the field.”

“Please Jack, there's gotta be something.”

“Well, there always is. But why do you want it?”

“Well let's just say I've gotten myself into an awkward situation and I need to be gone for a week,” Fareeha hoped that would suffice. Jack's silence told her it would not. She sighed.

“I've been planning to propose to Angela but I need to postpone our dinner date until I have the ring in a week.”

Jack, to her surprise, responded with a chuckle. “Go check the bounty board and see if you can find someone to go after.”

“Thank you, sir,” Fareeha said with a nod. She turned to leave.

“And Fareeha,”

Fareeha turned her head.

“We've all been there. It'll be fine.”

Fareeha nodded, smiled, and tried to ignore her curiosity.

“Thank you, Jack.”

She walked over to the board, careful not to let anyone see her. She decided on a high-level member of a Spanish gang in the city of Dorado. It seemed difficult enough to keep her occupied for four days, but easy enough to get home if she needed to.

“Whatcha looking at?”

Fareeha whipped around, hands out, to see Lena looking at her.

“Oh, Lena. It's just you. I'm trying to find a target to go after to postpone mine and Angela's dinner date until the ring I've ordered comes in.”

“Oh! you had to order it?” Lena tilted her head.

“Yes,” Fareeha confirmed, “they didn’t have it in her size. Thank you for making up an excuse for me, by the way. Angela didn’t suspect a thing.”

“Oh, good, I’m glad!” Lena said with a very tight smile.

Fareeha examined her, her eyebrow raised. “You’re hiding something.”

Lena’s eyes widened as she struggled to maintain her face. “No! Well,” she bit her lip, “I suppose there might have been a little something that happened.”

“What happened?” Fareeha asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Well, it went fine when I talked to Angela about it. But then, Jamie and Torb came by and were looking for you. Something about a new rocket idea? Anyway, they asked where you were and I told them you were out shopping, but Hana was walking by and seemed to pick up on something. She studied me, kinda like you’re doing right now actually - uh, sorry - anyway, she looked me up and down and seemed to decide I was up to something. Then Jamie and Torb started getting suspicious and well...I kinda told them.”

“You told Jamison, Torbjorn AND Hana?!” Fareeha burst.

“Well...yes. But it’s okay!” Lena assured. “They agreed not to tell anyone and they wanna help with the celebration after the engagement.”

“Oh my god.” Fareeha said, ducking her head and pinching the bridge of her nose. “No, no, okay.” She looked to Tracer. “You will make sure they don’t reveal anything to anyone, I will go away, and when I return, everything will be in order.”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Lena agreed with a salute.

Fareeha smiled with resignation. “Dismissed.”

In retrospect, Angela could have taken it better. But how was Fareeha to expect that her little ball of rage would march right up to Jack Morrison and demand to know why he was sending Fareeha on a mission, and that he should know she’d just been away for several weeks, and that there were plenty of other agents, and that really, Jack, she’d expected better from him.

Luckily, Jack covered from her. He read the apologizing cry for help on Fareeha’s face and shut Angela down with all the grace and power of a master diplomat. Fareeha was able to steer her away and calm her down, and with the assurance of a postponed dinner and a night of promise-marked sex, Fareeha was off, with Angela none the wiser.

Bounties usually took anywhere from two days to a week for Fareeha, and she’d expected this one to take about 5 days before she was home. She delivered her bounty on the fourth day and used the fifth day to plan her next steps.

When she reentered the watchpoint it was with triumphance, excitement and extreme nervousness. Upon seeing her, Angela wrapped her arms around Fareeha’s neck and kissed her slowly. Out of the corner of her eye, Fareeha was just able to catch some of the other agents looking over at the two of them and murmuring, but tried to ignore it and refocus on Angela.

“Hello, _habibti._ ” Fareeha greeted as she ran her fingers through Angela’s hair.

“Welcome back,” Angela responded. “Glad to see that you’re alright.”

“More than alright, with you,” Fareeha complimented.

Angela giggled. “Since when did you get so charming?”

“Well, when in Spain,” Fareeha joked. “Besides, I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Angela reached up to stroke Fareeha’s hair as she smiled at her. “Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

The statement hit Fareeha like a wave. “Yup!” she tensed. “Yes, yes. I’m very excited. I just need to go check something first.”

She left Angela standing there confused as she jogged off to her room to grab the phone. Beside it was written in Angela’s handwriting: “Luis” and a phone number to call back at.

Fareeha dialed as quickly as she could, her heart beating in rhythm with her anticipation.

“Hello?” The familiar voice came over the phone.

“Hi, Luis? This is Fareeha,” she tried not to feel small but could not mask how much this phone call meant to her.

“Fareeha! Good to hear from you. The ring has come in and is ready for you to pick up whenever you can.”

“Great. How late are you open today?”

“We close in two hours.”

“I will be there in one.”

After a quick goodbye Fareeha slammed down the phone and picked up her communicator. She typed a message to Lena and Genji telling them she needed a distraction immediately. They each responded in the affirmative and, in a crowning moment of quick-thinking, Fareeha grabbed her suit for the evening and slipped out the side exit.

She tried not to speed but was nonetheless thankful that she didn’t run across any cops: that would not have been a fun ticket to explain. She pulled in only forty minutes after she left, and was in and out in five.

By the time she’d gotten home, the box nestled secretly inside her jacket pocket, it was as if she’d never left. Or it would have been if she hadn’t left with such haste. While most of the Overwatch agents had been sufficiently distracted, Angela had not.

This was her quick-thinking. She’d grabbed an old dry-cleaning cover from the car and put the suit in it after picking up the ring. As she returned, she carried it in as a sign of her masterful lie.

“I’m so sorry I ran out on you like that,” she explained to a receiving but nevertheless frustrated Angela in their room. “But you see, I had dropped off some dry-cleaning for our date before I left, and I wanted to make sure I picked it up before the store closed.”

“So then why did you run off to our room?” Angela interrogated.

“Well I wanted to make sure it was ready, and find out when the store closed,” she bargained.

“Ah.”

“I’m very sorry. Everything is fine now, I was just in a rush.”

“It just seemed to be very odd behaviour for you,” Angela explained.

“It was, but,” Fareeha paused, brief, but still audible, “I’ve been very stressed lately. With all the missions and everything.”

“Oh, of course,” Angela brightened, “I should have figured. Do you need some time to relax? We can postpone again.”

“No!” Fareeha interjected, “No. I mean, we’ve already postponed so many times. And I’m really very excited for it. I was just a bit overwhelmed.”

“Okay,” Angela stroked her arm. There was a pause between them. “You know, since we have some time alone before tonight…”

“I was thinking the exact same thing,” Fareeha immediately moved to lock the door.

* * *

 

Fareeha had to admit - she looked good in a suit. She had decided on a tightly manicured aesthetic that made her feel dapper and glowing. Her braids, traditionally with two on either side of her head, had been repeated all around her hair. Her makeup was bold but crisp, with eyeliner winging off of her eyes, meeting with her Eye of Horus tattoo on the right side. Her lips were a matte red and her cheeks had just the hint of a blush. Contouring and eye makeup elevated her cheekbones and made her look fresh, alive and powerful.

And if her makeup gave a look of power, it was nothing compared to her attire. The suit had been tailored a while back for special occasions, and spoke of style rather than duty, as her military suit did. It was coloured a fantastic dark blue that further brightened her up, and drew reminiscence to the Raptora, and the jacket formed a perfectly taut V overtop of her matching silk tie. The arms of the jacket cuffed just at her wrists, which were adorned with round silver cufflinks, and her pants, held up by a belt and beautifully ironed, were straighter and cleaner than she had ever been.

It was a special outfit for a special day, and the box nestled in her pocket gave her that reminder. She turned away from the mirror with a grin. A feeling of warmth emanated from her stomach as she went to the bathroom. She knocked on the closed door, to which Angela responded “just a minute!”

After tapping her dark brown shoes a bit as she ran through the plan for the night in her head, the door opened, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

Angela was wearing a slinky red dress with a diagonal neckline from the top of her right breast to her left shoulder. It flowed down her body, hugging all of her curves tight. She had matched her shoes and lipstick (ever the perfectionist) and had her hair curled down one side of her head, ending in staggered ringlets. She wore the necklace Fareeha had given her for their anniversary, and a prepared smirk that told Fareeha she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Wow, Fareeha. You- You look incredible,” Angela said, the smirk falling open as she examined Fareeha.

“I look incredible? Then you look…” Fareeha paused, still stunned, “heavenly.”

Angela laughed. “It's not a contest, Fareeha.”

“Have you forgotten who you're dating?” Fareeha grinned.

Angela rolled her eyes but Fareeha caught her blush. “Should we go?”

Fareeha answered by extending her elbow. Angela took it in hers and they walked out of the room.

Of course, nothing goes unnoticed in Gibraltar, so when they walked into the kitchen they were greeted with whistles and heckles from the assembled agents.

“Hot date tonight?” Lucio taunted.

“The hottest,” Fareeha responded with a smile.

“Nice suit, Fareeha,” Zarya grinned.

“Thank you!” Fareeha beamed.

“Blimey, you two look incredible!” Lena exclaimed, stunned. “Where are you going?”

“This place called Feliciano’s,” Fareeha responded.

“Oh man, that place is fancy,” Lucio noted.

“Yes, well, sometimes it’s fun to pretend to be fancy,” Angela smiled, then turned to Fareeha, “our reservation is for 6, so…”

“Of course,” Fareeha agreed, “we should be off!” She said, waving goodbye to their admirers as the two of them walked to the door.

As they exited, Angela separated herself from Fareeha long enough to trot over to the car door, and open the passenger’s side for Fareeha. She wore a very pleased look on her face.

Fareeha shook her head and smiled. “Really?”

“You don’t get to do all of the chivalry tonight, Fareeha,” Angela explained, kissing her as they met at the door.

Angela drove. It was a silent agreement, their own sort of back and forth throughout the night. Gifts, favours, agreements were offered and accepted, each stepping back unless otherwise needed. It went unsaid, and it worked.

In fact, not much was said on the drive at all. Fareeha and Angela both loved to talk, but on nights like this, where the moon shone heavily among dusty clouds and flickering stars, sometimes you just needed to sit in connection. And besides, the part of Fareeha that was scared to mess this up was growing.

They got there quick. Or at least, that’s how Fareeha felt about it when she looked back on it. They got out of the car, her heart pounded, and they were seated.

“Ah, I love nights like this,” Angela’s voice snapped her back. She linked her own expression to Angela’s words and smiled. “Yes, it’s so soft.”

“Like you,” Angela grinned over a menu, lovestruck.

Fareeha breathed a laugh, flattered. “I will need wine before I can accept that.”

“Noted,” Angela allowed. As if called, their waitress approached.

“Good evening, how are you two doing tonight?” She addressed, with experience.

“Very well, thank you. Yourself?” Angela greeted warmly.

“Just fine,” A practiced smile, “can I get you two anything to drink?”

“Yes,” Angela looked back down at the wine list. Fareeha realized she’d been reading it as they flirted.

_Ever the multitasker._

“How would you feel about a sherry? This one?” Angela asked, offering her a view of the menu.

Fareeha quickly looked over the rest of the list. “Yes, I think that would be good.”

It was more for the appearance than anything. Fareeha liked wine, but Angela was the wine connoisseur. When they’d been in the south of France for a bit, Angela had convinced her to go to a wine tasting, at which she had felt completely out of her depth, but had at least learned the difference between a chardonnay and a sauvignon blanc. Still, as long as Angela was happy with their choice, she was happy.

Now beer, on the other hand, she could have gone to war over.

The waitress took the wine list and left them to the rest of their menus. Fareeha usually decided quickly, but everything felt like this night had to be perfect, right down to the food choice. She knew it was silly, but for whatever reason, she decided she needed something that would settle her nerves. Shrimp, an easy favourite of hers, caught her eye, and she was decided.

She put her menu down and took a second to admire Angela. Fareeha could tell she was biting the inside of her lip and making a careful decision, her eyes just starting to crinkle at the edges as they did when she was working on something in the lab. She seemed perpetually bathed in a tender light that found her wherever she was. Fareeha could only hope to always be able to follow that light, for them to always be able to find each other, for the rest of their lives. Looking at Angela, all her doubts with the proposal faded away, and she was sure about this choice. And when Angela looked back up at her, she thought, for just a second, that Angela might be too.

“Fareeha,” Angela started, reaching across the table to grab her hand, “thank you for finding the time to do this. I know you’re busy, and you just returned from a mission, but this means a lot to me.”

“It is truly my pleasure. There isn’t anywhere else I want to be tonight,” Fareeha squeezed her hand.

Angela smiled and removed her hand, leaned back in her chair and stared at Fareeha with adoration. “You are, without a doubt, the most incredible woman I’ve ever been lucky enough to meet.”

Fareeha blushed, glancing downward. _Should she do it now?_ She began to reach for her pocket, then stopped. _It’s too early. There’s plenty of time left in the night._

Fareeha was right that there was plenty of time. But it went fast, like a dream sequence, where everything moves at weird speeds that seem unreal. Orders were taken, food was brought out, they admired one another, flirted, soaked the buzz of wine and of their company. They had just finished eating when Fareeha realized Angela’s communicator was buzzing. Her heart dropped.

“Oh no,” Angela looked horrified, “I’m sorry, I have to-”

“I know you do, please take it,” Fareeha tried to mask her despair.

Angela grabbed it from her purse and put it to her ear. “Hello, Mercy here. What’s going on?”

After a short back and forth of which Fareeha only heard half, Angela ended the call with an “Alright, I’ll be there” and Fareeha knew her heaven was to be cut short.

“I’m so sorry Fareeha,” she was already up and zipping her bag, “but Jesse was out on a solo mission and he’s been injured and they need me,” she rushed through.

Fareeha grabbed Angela’s shaking hand with her calm one. “It’s alright. You have a job to do. I’ll take care of everything, just go help him.”

Angela nodded, grabbed her coat and started moving. She only took a moment to pause, lean down and kiss Fareeha before running out the door.

As soon as she was out, Fareeha called Lena.

“Fareeha! We’ve been waiting to hear from you! How are things going?”

Fareeha realized that McCree’s injury may not be common knowledge there yet, to prevent worry.

“Oh they’re fine, but listen, Angela had to go back to Gibraltar,” Fareeha tried to be vague.

“Oh no!” Lena said, upset. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure I can say, but we’re both fine. I just need a car to get me back home.”

“On my way!” Lena said, hanging up.

Say what you want about Lena, but if there was one thing she was good at, it was helping out a friend in need. She pulled up just as Fareeha was done paying.

* * *

 

If Fareeha was honest, she kind of wanted to go home in silence.

She felt a bit silly about the whole failed proposal thing. Everything had been perfect, but for some reason she’d wanted to wait. Didn’t she realize the risks of that? This very situation could’ve happened at any point, but she’d been obsessed with doing a “perfect” job. If she’d done this or that differently, she reasoned, it would have gone completely fine.

But she didn’t have the silence to reflect on that. Lena’s way of fixing mistakes was to talk them through until they were dealt with, and so that’s what they were going to do.

“Well that’s alright!” Lena assured Fareeha after she’d coaxed as much of the story of the night as she could from her. “Listen, all we’ve gotta do is find another way that has less chance of blowing up!”

 “As long as Angela is on call twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, any plan has a chance of blowing up,” Fareeha argued, despondent.

“Not necessarily!” Lena quickly gave her a hopeful look before turning back to the road. “What if we did something at Gibraltar?”

“I don’t see how that would help.”

“Well, you wouldn’t necessarily have to make a night out of it.” Lena explained. “Even half an hour during any evening when you’re both free could work absolutely fine!”

Fareeha did have to admit that that made sense. Plus, Gibraltar had a certain meaningfulness to it, being where they’d met.

“And if she does get called, she’ll be closer,” Lena continued, “and not everything she’ll be called for will require her to take the rest of the night. So she could go down, help out, and come back to wherever you are.”

Fareeha wasn’t sure how much she believed that, but it wasn’t as if she had a better plan. “Okay, but what if we’re interrupted? Gibraltar is very busy.”

“I’ll keep watch!” Lena offered. “You two could use the roof and I could keep everyone off of it.”

Fareeha considered it. She still saw a lot that could go wrong, and it didn’t feel exactly perfect. But she had to admit she was getting a bit antsy. Rather than fight it, she decided to start planning.

“And we could do this any night?”

“Yeah! I mean, unless I’m on a mission somewhere, but I’d let you know ahead of time. Just say the word and I’ll be there,” Lena decided.

“What about Jack? He’ll want to know why we’re keeping people off the roof.” Fareeha pointed out.

“Doesn’t he already know about the proposal?” Lena rebutted.

“Well, yes.”

“Then you’re set! I’ll talk to him as soon as possible.” Lena said with a cheery look.

Fareeha hummed, unsure, but warming to the idea.

“It’ll totally work! I’ll have your back the whole way alone,” Lena assured her.

“Alright,” Fareeha agreed, “we’ll do it.”

“Yes!” Lena fist-pumped before realizing and slamming her hands back on the wheel. “Whoops, sorry.”

Fareeha laughed, a needed release. “Alright, proposal mark 2. Let’s go.”

* * *

 

It didn’t take long for them to get moving. After a quick delay due to a short mission near London, they were all back at home and planning.

Lena had explained the plan to Jack and the others and had gotten the “ok” for a night where both Fareeha and Angela were free. When that night came, everyone was told to stay off the roof, and Fareeha stood in their room, waiting for the final go-ahead from Lena.

She stared at herself in the mirror, then felt the ring box in her pocket. The stress of trying to plan a proposal with all the mistakes she’d encountered had taken away a bit of the nerves of the action itself. But now, as she took a moment to breathe, she once again felt the worry and the excitement that had accompanied her along this whole path.

She had mapped it out logically. Taken the steps she needed to take, thought about the possibilities and the problems that could occur, and it all seemed perfect. But the mistakes and the postponements seemed to flare up as omens in her chest.

Her phone buzzed, and she whipped it out of her pocket. On the screen, a text from Lena said “You are all clear!” and Fareeha’s face flushed. She felt warmth and stability that told her this would be the night, it had to be, and that for all she worried about, this was the right decision for her and for Angela.

She took one last deep breath, and let herself smile a smile that carried her to the living room, where Angela sat, reading an article on her tablet.

“ _Habibti_ ,” she greeted, as she placed her hands on Angela’s shoulders, “I’m going to watch the sunset on the roof. Would you like to join me?”

Angela took a relaxed breath and smiled. “Keep reading this neurobiology article, or watch the sunset with you? Yes, I think I could tolerate it.”

Fareeha laughed softly as Angela stood, placing her tablet on the side table. The two of them walked through the hallway and up the stairs to the roof, which (Fareeha was thankful to see) was clear of anyone.

They leaned against the railing and Fareeha looked out over the cliff face. The water rippled in shining waves as far as she could see. It met the pink sky at the horizon, as the sun just began to dip under it. _I have time_ , she thought, and she put her arm around Angela.

The two of them watched in silence, wrapped around each other for some time. Their breaths fell into a slow rhythm as the two of them watched the sky grow more brilliant and begin to fade.

Fareeha summoned her courage, and pulled away from Angela. “Angela, I wanted to ask you something.” Her heart beat fast as she looked at her, and Fareeha tried to remember the speech she had prepared. But just as she was about to start, she heard Lena’s voice yell “no, wait! Stop!”

Both Angela and her whipped their heads to the sound to see Jamison and Torbjorn stopped in their tracks with arms full of fireworks, and a Lena blinking up behind them.

“Jamison, Torbjorn, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Lena scolded.

“Wait, I didn’t know it was this roof!” Torbjorn inferred, confused.

“Yes, of course it’s this roof! The roof I was standing keeping watch over!”

“I thought you were standing there so that we could all stay out of their way,” Jamison explained, pointing to Angela and Fareeha.

“What?” Angela asked. “What do you mean stay out of our way?”

“Oh no.” Lena realized, and looked at Fareeha, who groaned.

“Fareeha, what’s going on here?” Angela turned back to her.

Fareeha’s mind whirled. The chance of a secret proposal had flown out of her grasp. If Angela didn’t realize what was happening now, she knew she would soon, so she knew she couldn’t postpone this again. She had to push on through.

“Lena, Jamison, Torbjorn, would you please get off the roof?” Fareeha ordered with barely restrained contempt. The three scurried back through the door.

 Angela had become unsettled. “Fareeha, please explain what’s happening.”

Fareeha sighed. “I had hoped for this to be a secret, but it’s alright. This will do.”

She reached into her pocket, and got down on one knee. Angela’s hands flew to her face.

“Angela, you have always been the woman of my dreams. From the day I saw you, I knew I wanted to be with you. But as we’ve gotten to know each other, and I’ve gotten to spend my days and nights falling in love with you, I realized that you’re more than just the person I want to be with. You are my greatest support, my fiercest ally, and my best friend. And I would want nothing more than to be by your side as long as we live. Will you marry me?”

Fareeha could barely finish the sentence before Angela was nodding furiously and repeating “yes”. Their hands shook as Fareeha put the ring around her finger, and their tearful faces met as Angela bent down to kiss her.

Angela smiled as Fareeha stood back up, and laughed through the happy tears. “You beat me to it, _mein liebling_. I was on an engagement ring site before you walked into the room,” she admitted.

Fareeha laughed and breathed a relieved sigh. “You would not believe how stressful this process has been.”

“Oh, Fareeha,” Angela took Fareeha’s hands in hers, “you could have asked me any way and I would have been more than pleased.”

“Yes, but I wanted it to be special. Because you’re special to me.”

“You’re special to me too, Fareeha.” Angela kissed her again.

They stayed in each other’s embrace for a moment, the rest of the world gone. Finally, Fareeha turned towards the door that she knew Lena, Jamison and Torbjorn were waiting just past.

“Alright, you three! You can come out now, she said yes!” She yelled.

The sound of cheers came from inside as Lena blinked to them.

“Oh my God I am so happy for you! This is amazing, wow, I am so sorry about how things went but I’m so happy it finally happened,” Lena rushed through.

Jamison and Torbjorn ran up behind. Torbjorn stopped to give a quick congratulations before the two of them began setting up fireworks a little farther down the roof.

“Fireworks?” Angela asked.

“Their idea,” Fareeha indicated to Lena, Jamison and Torbjorn.

Lena shrugged. “We’re excited for you, and everyone shows their excitement differently. For example, I show my excitement by sharing it with everyone else!” she proclaimed before blinking back inside the watchpoint.

It was then that a thought struck Fareeha. It seemed to smack her across the face as she realized what she’d forgotten.

“Oh fuck,” she reeled.

“What?” Angela asked, concerned.

Fareeha had been really stressed with all the planning that she was doing. She hadn’t really thought about anything past the proposal, or about anything outside of her specific plans. She knew the news was gossip anyway, so she hadn’t considered who may or may not have known.

“I forgot something.”

“What did you forget?”

As more cheers sprang from the watchpoint, Fareeha put her face in her hands.

“I forgot to tell my mother.”

 *Inflation by 2070 is gonna be a hell of a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feedback is super appreciated! I think this chapter is better than the previous ones, but also like, there's always room for improvement. And again, sorry for the delay! Starting on chapter 5 soon!


	5. Tell Your Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you get so swept up in the heat of the moment that you forget important things. Sometimes that important thing is telling your mother you're getting married. Sometimes that has consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for the long time between updates, my life is just...like this sometimes. However, I now have a wonderful beta writer and I've got pretty much the entire fic written, so I should be able to post like once a week for at least a while. Anyway, have fun with this chapter! I think it's pretty good.

Fareeha loved her mother very much. But love is not all there is.

Growing up, Fareeha had idolized her mother. She heard great stories about what she had done as a soldier and a diplomat and she knew the warmth of her mother’s touch. She understood why everyone called Ana “hero”. But her mother worried, and she worried in a way that Fareeha couldn’t take.

“I don’t know how I forgot,” Fareeha justified to Angela, “I was just so busy.”

It had been a long night after the engagement, as everyone partied until early in the morning, desperate to take a load off after several tense missions. Fareeha and Angela had stumbled out of bed late in the morning, and were now making coffee in the kitchen as they discussed the events of the past night.

“Are you sure you just forgot?” Angela offered. “Is it possible that you didn’t want to do it, so it was forced down into your subconscious?”

Fareeha sighed. “I mean, yes, possibly. But if I’d thought of it, I would've done it, I promise.”

Angela put her hand on Fareeha’s shoulder. “I know you would have.” Angela bit the side of her lip, “I don’t know if she does.”

Fareeha breathed deeply. Ana had been angry last night, and Fareeha was certain she wouldn’t have calmed down by now. Fareeha had tried to talk to her several times throughout the night, but Ana wouldn’t say more than a few words to her. Instead, Ana had stood in the corner, clearly frustrated, and then she’d gone off to bed early. Fareeha had been wracked with guilt the whole time.

“I should go find her,” Fareeha resolved, “see if she’ll talk to me now.”

Angela nodded. “Wait for the coffee first though. You’ll need it.”

Fareeha did wait, and in fact, decided on bringing two mugs so she could share. As she started to walk towards Ana’s room, a memory came to her.

The first time Ana had let Fareeha drink coffee, it had been the morning of her 16th birthday. Fareeha had come down the stairs to a large breakfast and two mugs of coffee. One was black and already stained around the rim, and the other was light brown and steaming softly.

“Happy birthday, Fareeha,” Ana had greeted with a smile.

“Thank you mama,” Fareeha had responded. And then, noticing the coffee, she’d asked “what’s this?”

“Well, you are 16 now,” Ana explained, “I thought it was time for you to try something a little more grown-up.”

Fareeha had smiled in response to that. At 16, she’d wanted nothing more than to be grown up, and to prove herself to the ones she loved, especially Ana. She had drank that coffee before it had even cooled.

In the present, Fareeha looked down at the mugs she was carrying. They were both black, full of bitterness and strength they both craved. Fareeha couldn’t remember when she’d started taking her coffee that way.

Fareeha reached Ana’s room and knocked. When there was no response, she knocked again, and shouted “Mama, it’s me!”

After a pause, she heard the sounds of shuffling, and then the door opened to reveal Ana, looking at her with suspicious eyes.

“I brought coffee.” Fareeha said, indicating to the mugs in her hand.

Ana looked down at the mugs and then back up at Fareeha. After a moment, she sighed and said “alright, come in.”

Fareeha followed her mother into the room and was reminded of Ana’s obsession with tidiness. Even here, at the watchpoint, her bed was crisply made, the bookshelf was neatly arranged and everything looked exactly in its place. Everything, that was, except for Fareeha, who felt more strongly her intrusion.

Fareeha gave Ana a mug and Ana placed it on the table before sitting. Fareeha hesitantly sat across from her and tried to find the words.

“Congratulations on your engagement,” Ana feigned, before sipping her coffee.

“Thank you, mama,” Fareeha accepted, trying to smile. The words were caught at the back of her throat, but she pushed herself to get them out.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you,” she managed, “everything was,” she hesitated, “there was a lot of stress,” she shook her head, “I was very busy,” she sighed.

“It’s a stressful thing, Fareeha,” Ana agreed, “you know that I know that.”

“I do, but it’s no excuse,” Fareeha confessed, “you are my mother, I should have told you.”

Ana sipped her coffee and said nothing. Fareeha continued.

“I care about you a lot, and I want you to have a presence in my life again. This is something you deserved to know, and I’m sorry that I forgot to tell you it.”

There was a pause as Ana put down her mug and looked at Fareeha.

“You have no obligation to tell me these things, Fareeha,” Ana explained, "I understand that there has always been distance between us, and I don’t have to know everything about your life at all times.”

“But I wanted you to know, mama,” Fareeha corrected, “I simply forgot. I forgot a lot of things while I was wrapped up in all of this.”

“The fact that you forgot about me does not make me feel any different, Fareeha,” Ana snapped. Then, she sighed. “It’s okay though, I appreciate you coming to apologize. I’m willing to let it go and move forward.”

Fareeha perked up, surprised. “Really?”

“Yes, there’s no point holding a grudge about things that cannot be changed,” Ana waved it away, “Besides, we should discuss plans for the wedding.”

Fareeha nodded, still unsettled but pleased with the turn in conversation. “Absolutely. Though Angela and I haven’t discussed it quite yet, I could go grab her.”

“No, no, there’s no need to do that. You and I can figure out some ideas and then she can look at them later.”

Fareeha cocked her eyebrow slightly but allowed Ana to continue.

“Now, I know this wonderful mosque in Cairo that would be an excellent location,” Ana started, reaching for her tablet.

“Wait, mama, I was thinking that the wedding would be here,” Fareeha corrected.

Ana looked up at her daughter, confused. “Why would we host the wedding here rather than at home?”

“Because Cairo isn’t mine or Angela’s home.” Fareeha explained, “And it isn’t home for any of the Overwatch agents, or my Helix friends, or papa.”

Ana sighed. “Well, if that’s your concern, I’m sure we could find a mosque in Giza.”

“Mama, you’re missing the point,” Fareeha said, frustrated, “we haven’t decided that the wedding is going to be in Egypt.”

“Why wouldn’t it be in Egypt? That’s where we’re from.” Ana questioned.

“Yes, but we live here now,” Fareeha reminded, “and Angela isn’t from there. And neither is papa.”

“Overwatch is constantly moving, and your father can afford a plane ticket just fine,” Ana denied.

“He can, and that’s why I’ll ask him to fly out here,” Fareeha decided, “We’re not going to Egypt, just like we’re not going to Switzerland or Canada. This is the most central place for everyone.”

“But this isn’t your home, Fareeha,” Ana implored.

“How do you know what my home is?” Fareeha shut her down, the coffee in her mug rippling, “Mama, I have spent my life in Cairo, in Giza, in Vancouver, and in Gibraltar. I have many homes.”

“Does the place where you grew up hold no weight?” Ana shot back, “I raised you in Cairo, I think that should matter.”

“And you left me in Giza, and that matters too,” Fareeha sneered.

Ana was taken aback. “Fareeha, I had no choice.”

All of the pent up frustration in Fareeha came pouring out. “Of course you had a choice! You’ve always had a choice! The fact that you thought it was a legitimate option to let me believe you were dead for a year shows how much you don’t understand me.”

“Please, Fareeha, you sound like you’re sixteen again,” Ana advised.

Fareeha got to her feet. “Honestly, mom, I’m not sure you’ve ever seen me as older than that.”

Ana rolled her eyes and said nothing, then sipped her coffee. Fareeha stared at her, waiting for a response. Ana looked away from her, continuing her silence. She tried to think of something to say, to salvage their conversation, but everything fell short. Frustrated, she cursed and left the room.

Fareeha didn’t know why she tried. She had always had a strained relationship with her mom, with some issue always simmering between them that neither would talk about. With Ana back, Fareeha had figured that maybe they could be adults about this, come to some understanding, but Ana would never listen to reason. She always thought she knew what was best for Fareeha, and made assumptions that weren’t accurate about her life and her needs.

Ana may have raised her, but then she faked her death, making Fareeha wait a year before revealing the truth. In that time, Fareeha had found other support, had charted a new life out, and after Ana’s letter came, Fareeha knew she didn’t need her anymore.

Fareeha turned the corner, hands still balled in fists, to see Angela and Reinhardt talking in the weight room. She was about to go join them when she noticed that they were both crying and smiling. Reinhardt nodded, saying some words Fareeha couldn’t make out, and Angela wrapped her arms around his giant frame.

Fareeha and Angela had talked often about what family meant to the two of them. Angela’s parents had been killed in the Omnic Crisis, and Fareeha’s relationship to both of her parents had always been complicated. Whenever they talked about their future family, it was always marked with questions and insecurities. They each knew the other would be a great mother, but they often felt like neither of them had role models to follow.

When Ana had come back, Angela had pulled back from Fareeha a bit. When Fareeha had questioned her, she’d said that she wanted to give her the space she needed to reintegrate with her mother. Fareeha had always said that when her mother “died”, all she’d wanted was to get another chance with her, and Angela had been trying to give her the room to do that.

At the same time, she knew that Angela had felt hurt by the fact that Fareeha now had her mother back. Before, the two of them had been able to bond over their familial losses. Now, Fareeha had the chance of a relationship again, and she wasn’t taking it.

Fareeha turned the corner, not wanting to be noticed by the two as she thought. She leaned up against the wall and sighed. In that year when Fareeha thought Ana was dead, Fareeha really had wanted nothing more than another chance with her. The arguments they’d had, the things she’d believed, the way she’d seen her mother all seemed so silly when it was all in her head. No one was there to remind her how hard it was to make things right again, how it involved both parties giving so much. She’d thought that if she ever got the chance to, she’d be able to fix everything between them all on her own. But she knew that she had to sincerely offer and firmly expect and not let things go until they were properly dealt with.

She stood again, wiped her eyes and walked back to Ana’s room. She knocked, and after a moment, Ana answered. Both of their eyes were reddened, and neither moved.

“I’m sorry, mama,” Fareeha choked out.

“I’m sorry too, Fareeha,” Ana responded in turn.

“I don’t want this to be how things are for the rest of our lives,” Fareeha admitted.

Ana nodded. “I don’t either. Come on in, I’ll make us some tea. We can really talk this time.”

Fareeha breathed out and nodded. She walked inside behind her mother.

* * *

When Fareeha saw Angela again, Angela was thrilled to hear how well it had gone. She was impressed and excited that her and Ana’s relationship was starting to improve, but Fareeha noticed something was slightly off about her excitement.

“How did your day go?” Fareeha asked.

“Oh, well,” Angela curled a strand of her hair nervously, “it was fine.”

“Yeah? I noticed you talking to Reinhardt.” Fareeha prodded.

Angela started to flush. “Oh, yes, I was asking him if he’d walk me down the aisle. You know, assuming that’s what we end up doing.”

Fareeha nodded. “Oh, that’s nice. How did it go?”

“Well,” Angela started, “it mostly went really well. We had an excellent heart to heart and he agreed to do so.”

“That’s good. So what went wrong?” Fareeha inferred, too exhausted to keep dancing around it.

“Ah. Well,” Angela went even redder, “you know, it may have just been a joke. But he was talking about other weddings he’d been to, you know, with the Crusaders and all that. And he went ‘and of course, I will wear my Crusader armour to walk you down the aisle!’”

Fareeha put her head in her hands. “Angelaaaaa.”

Angela sighed, embarrassed. “He looked so happy, what was I supposed to say?”

In her mind, Fareeha pictured Reinhardt, in his giant armour, amongst a crowd of people all wearing their best clothes.

“You’re going to talk to him, right?” Fareeha assured.

Angela nodded. “I will, just...another day.”

“Okay, sure, fine,” Fareeha concluded, “another day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, there we go! Angela and Fareeha are great at this. Hoping to post a new chapter every Friday from here onwards. Please let me know any feedback, I can incorporate it into my editing! Find me on Tumblr at nazgulkoopa!


	6. Get Back To Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't let the wedding planning fool you - Overwatch still has a job to do. Travelling to: Nepal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, another chapter on Friday! This one went from being "okay we need a combat chapter" to "oh wow this is really good". I hope you like it as much as I do!

After a few days of life changing events, Fareeha was almost glad to be back in the field.

Zenyatta had gotten a call from one of the other Shambali monks that a group of anti-Omnic agitators were planning an attack on the Nepal Monastery to “take it back” from the Shambali. The monks were looking for protection, and Jack and Ana thought it smart to align themselves with the peace-loving, generally popular religious order.

The Overwatch agents arrived just before sundown, and were greeted by an Omnic who introduced herself as Tekhartha Soldatta. Fareeha walked behind her mother and Jack as the initial greeting party.

“Greetings, friends,” she opened, warm and slow, “thank you for coming to us in our time of need.” She offered her hand to the approaching Ana.

“Of course, Tekhartha,” Ana gladly shook her hand, “we are glad to help. I only hope our ambiguous legality does not put the Shambali in an awkward position.”

“Certainly not,” Soldatta assured, “the laws of this world do not matter to the truly enlightened.”

Ana smiled, but Fareeha could see her eyes narrow suspiciously. As Overwatch agents continued to funnel out, Zenyatta floated past her, and Soldatta’s eyes flickered for just a second.

“Tekhartha Soldatta, it is good to see you again,” Zenyatta offered.

“You as well, Zenyatta,” Soldatta responded, her voice unwavering.

“You are the leader now, I presume?” Zenyatta continued on, non-plussed.

Soldatta nodded. “Yes, ever since the death of Tekhartha Mondatta, may his true spirit find eternal peace.”

“May it indeed,” Zenyatta agreed as the group began to float inside.

Fareeha followed behind, turning as Lena popped up beside her. Lena looked anxious and uncomfortable.

“Hey, you okay?” Fareeha asked.

Lena looked up at her, sheepish. “Yeah, I’m just worried. You know, I failed to protect Mondatta, what if they’re mad at me?”

“Lena, these people don’t get mad at people,” Fareeha reminded, “Zenyatta ran away from their monastery, and the only negative thing they said to him was that they didn’t address him as Tekhartha. Besides, there was nothing you could have done.”

Lena nodded. “Yeah, I mean, you’re right. But what if there’s nothing I can do this time too? Since we have to protect again.”

Fareeha placed her hand on Lena’s shoulder. “You’re not doing this alone this time. None of us are.”

As if to punctuate her statement, Genji and Angela came up to either side of them. Lena smiled. “Thanks, Fareeha.”

“No problem,” Fareeha decided, as the four of them sped up their walk to catch the rest of the group as they entered the monastery.

As they entered, Fareeha couldn’t help but look at the stunning architecture. The Shambali had taken the ruins they’d found and built it up beautifully. She could see the slight difference between old stone and new stone, but overall it was seamless. The tiling was clean, there were ribbons hanging down every wall, and the entire space seemed to be enveloped in an orange glow. It was a place for devotion and duty, and Fareeha was glad to see it after so much time spent in military spaces.

They descended a staircase, and Fareeha noticed humans and Omnics going about their business. Some floated, some walked, but they all had a great air of calm about them. None of them paid any of the Overwatch agents a second look, except to smile or wave in greeting. Fareeha felt tender and held in a way that Gibraltar never gave her. She reached for Angela’s hand, who took it happily.

They entered a room with several long dining tables, with all the places set. Soldatta turned to the group.

“Since you will be staying with us over the next few days, we would like to welcome you into our space with a meal.” She indicated to the tables, “for those of you who receive nutrition through consuming food, we have prepared a feast. For those of you who receive it through electricity or Omnic power, we have prepared charging stations and aura refreshers.”

“That is very kind of you, and we appreciate it greatly,” Ana said, smiling.

Soldatta nodded. “Be seated wherever you please, the nutrition will come shortly.”

Everyone began to make their way to a table, and seated themselves. Fareeha looked to Genji to her right.

“How does it feel to be in the place where your teacher comes from?” Fareeha asked.

Genji looked at his plate, then back to Fareeha. “It is odd. Zenyatta has described this place before, on many occasions, but it’s another thing to be in it.”

“Does it feel comfortable?” Fareeha encouraged.

Genji paused. “It feels like a reminder of how much work I still have to do.”

Fareeha nodded, and didn’t press.

As they chatted, they noticed other humans and Omnics coming to join them, filling up the rest of the tables. Soon, people entered, carrying large trays of food, drink, and metallic blocks with glowing lights.

As the food was placed down, Soldatta rose, and the other people of the monastery began to grab hands. In reaction, the Overwatch agents did as well.

Fareeha felt Genji’s hand in hers, metallic and still, and Ana’s hand in her other, warm and lively. She looked across the table to see Angela, smiling at her as she grabbed for Lena and Lucio’s hands.

“Friends, partners, peace-seekers and guests, we welcome you to our final meal of the day, which we will use to fuel ourselves for the night ahead,” Soldatta began.

Fareeha looked around, trying to gauge the customs, but the room simply stared at Soldatta.

“Tonight, we are lucky to have the presence of the agents of Overwatch with us,” she continued, “They will be here over the next few days to ensure our safety from those who would threaten our peace. I ask you to be patient, caring and friendly as they adjust to our world.”

She turned to the table of Overwatch agents. “I wish that, over the course of this visit, you all find yourselves well accommodated. And I hope that you may all learn from us as we will learn from you.”

Soldatta turned back to include all the tables. “Let us take this moment to connect with one another and receive the nutrition we need. Everyone, please begin.”

* * *

After the agents had eaten, the monks had shown them to the guest quarters they’d be using. The group met up, and went over their plan: four agents would be stationed at the entrances to the shrine, sanctum and village in case a direct attack came to them, and the other 6 agents would search the surrounding area for any signs of agitators. If nothing came in a few days, they would regroup and see if they could find the agitators’ base.

Fareeha was assigned to Sanctum, along with Zarya, Angela, and Bastion. If they were attacked, Ana and Reinhardt would reinforce them from the village.

Zarya had not been pleased to have been assigned with Bastion. In fact, she was not happy to be defending the Omnic monks at all. She came to Fareeha that night with her concerns.

“I do not understand why we are here,” she admitted, as the two of them sat on the balcony, overlooking the village.

“We are here to protect the monks and people here,” Fareeha reminded her.

“But why do we have to?” Zarya questioned, clenching her fist. “Omnics are strong, they killed hundreds of people during the Crisis. Why can’t they defend themselves?”

Fareeha breathed in. “Not all Omnics are like that. These monks have sworn to be peaceful, and don’t know how to fight.”

“But Zenyatta, he is a monk from here. And he is terrifying.”

“Zenyatta is different. He left because he disagreed with the way they did things here.”

“If he can decide that, what stops them?” Zarya grumbled, “I do not understand why we are expected to defend these machines just because they refuse to admit what they were made for.”

“If I might,” came a voice from behind them. The two of them turned to see an Omnic named Felyatta that had introduced themself at dinner looking down at the two of them. “I couldn’t help overhearing your discussion on the true path of Omnics.”

“I’m sorry, Tekhartha, she is new to all of this,” Fareeha apologized, flustered.

“I am not new to this,” Zarya corrected, “I have been harmed by Omnics for as long as I have lived.”

“It is alright, Fareeha,” Felyatta comforted, “this is a place of learning.”

They turned to Zarya. “I am sorry for the pain Omnics have caused you. The Omnic Crisis was unforgivable, and the actions other Omnics took hurt me deeply. But this is a space for healing, and I would like to offer that to you.”

Zarya narrowed her eyes. Felyatta came around to face her.

“I imagine you have many questions, and many frustrations with Omnics. Would you like to take a walk with me? I would be very willing to speak with you about whatever you wish.”

Zarya paused, then looked at Fareeha. Fareeha nodded, and Zarya made a low growl.

“Fine. But I am bringing my pistol,” she indicated to her belt, where the holstered pistol sat.

“Whatever you need to feel safe,” Felyatta said, unflinching.

The two of them walked away, Zarya’s steps methodical and Felyatta’s floating effortless.

Fareeha looked out at the village below, and thought about the peace and tranquility of the monastery. It wasn’t something she’d ever been used to, her life being such a whirlwind. But for all her talk of justice and righteousness, she was beginning to think that maybe this is what she wanted. That maybe, like her mother, she didn’t want to follow a soldier’s path forever.

She always wanted things to play out the right way, for the good to triumph and for the bad to get what they deserved. But here, that didn’t happen. Zarya, though she was her friend, had said violent, rude things about Omnics, and rather than antagonize her, Felyatta had reached out to her. When Fareeha was Pharah, she didn’t get to be so forgiving. She had to defend, she had to hurt, she had to make a choice about what the good and bad deserved.

She had thought of peaceful cities like these as luxuries for a time where not everyone was out to get each other constantly. But she wondered if maybe this was what she fought for. If what she wanted most of all was a world of cities like this one. Cities where she could settle down one day, live a normal life, with her wife and her mother and no missions and no violence.

It was a goal, she thought. It was a good goal to strive for. But she had no idea how to achieve it. She ached for a chance to take off the armour, even as she felt compelled to always have it nearby, but even here, in the heart of peace and tranquility, they were here to fight. Because there always needed to be people who fought the wars.

Fareeha stood. It had been a long day, and many long days were to come. Her bed called to her, tempted her with a temporary peace. She began to walk to her room, thinking of justice and soldiers and the dreams where she was neither.

* * *

Before the sun had rose, Pharah was out and guarding the front entrance. Pharah stood on one side of the door while Bastion mirrored her on the other side. Beside Pharah, Mercy would stand, before occasionally doing a flyover to check for any signs of the assailants. On Bastion’s side, Zarya monitored the situation - and her Omnic companion. With the exception of the occasional people leaving and arriving, their task was uneventful.

Over the communication channel, chatter from the other stations told them that the whole monastery was similarly calm. There were no suspicious figures or signals in the village or the shrine, and the agents were getting tired from being on high alert with such a lack of activity. The team in the surrounding area gave periodic reports, and had picked up some signs of a nearby presence, but had no leads on the status of the agitators - a group calling themselves the Organic Defense Squadron (roughly translated).

This continued over the next two days. The four of them began to chat aimlessly and became less suspicious of every hump of shining snow. Mercy knew languages both organic and Omnic, and so gradually figured out how to translate Bastion’s beeps and whirs. Eventually, Zarya and him had entered into an uneasy comradery.

Pharah had noticed a shift in Zarya over the past few days. She’d grown from a general disdain for the monastery and a slight rudeness to any Omnic visitors to a general level of pleasantness to anyone she encountered. Pharah also noticed that after their watch shifts, before Zarya returned to her room, she would take a walk with Felyatta. It was encouraging, and she hoped it would have a lasting effect when they returned to Gibraltar.

In the morning of their third day on watch, they received a message from McCree, who was with their scouting team.

“We noticed some footprints on one of the nearby cliffs that seemed to be heading towards the front entrance,” he explained, “we’re gonna check ‘em out, see if there’s anything that links it to the agitators.”

“Understood, we will be on standby,” Pharah confirmed, as she looked to her fellow agents.

“I can go up and give it a look,” Mercy offered. Pharah hesitated instinctually, not wanting to leave Mercy alone when there was a legitimate danger. She looked to Zarya and Bastion.

“Yes,” Zarya nodded, “that would be a good idea. Pharah, you should go too. Two pairs of eyes.”

“I don’t want to leave you undefended,” Pharah cautioned. Zarya shrugged.

“You fight from the air, we fight from the land. We are capable fighters,” she indicated to herself and Bastion, “and you will be more help to us up there anyway.”

Pharah nodded and agreed, and put on her helmet. She clicked on the scanning protocols then looked to Mercy. Through the text and data beginning to light up, she could see Mercy nod and say “on your mark”. They boosted into the air, in sync as they always were, but the lack of healing beam around her back reminded her that they weren’t in combat.

The two of them flew up above the monastery and moved to check each side. Pharah landed on the mountainside that overlooked the entrance, setting down at the peak. She looked down below at the path that led up the mountain and saw no sign of anyone.

“All clear!” came Mercy from the other side, and she prepared to jet down.

But just then, she heard the sound of a rock fall.

She whipped her head around to where it had come from but saw nothing. She then flew to the very edge of that side of the cliff and looked down. There, on a thin ledge, she saw people climbing onto the rocks that the monastery was built into. When they noticed her, they began to move faster, rushing down the rocks and onto the monastery’s low roof.

“Hostiles detected!” Pharah yelled, shooting a concussive blast at those still on the thin ledge.

“Where?” Zarya replied,

“Left side, coming down the rocks,” she heard the sound of Mercy flying towards her as she fired a rocket into the crowd that was starting to shoot at her.

“Initiate evacuation procedures!” came Jack’s voice.

“Pharah, we are on our way to assist you,” Ana assured.

Pharah looked down to see one of Zarya’s blasts connect with the forming crowd. A few soldiers went down, but most were sturdier. Pharah was glad to see there were only about ten or twelve gathered there as she fired another rocket at the insurgents on the cliff face.

She felt a few shots connect to her armour but saw them be patched up quickly by Mercy’s healing. Instinctually, she began floating evasively while giving fire to back up Zarya’s blasts and Bastion’s turret rounds.

The people on the roof began to try to cut through the roof and drop into the sanctuary, but were being kept occupied by the constant attacks. Evacuation commenced and she could hear the yelling of orders through comms. Ana and Reinhardt appeared at the entrance and began reinforcing, and Pharah felt a sense of relief through the intensity.

Just when they seemed to have the situation on lockdown, her sensors blinked red, showing several more insurgents appearing in front of the monastery. When she looked down, she saw several people appearing out of thin air, guns already alight and pointed at all six of them.

They all reacted fast, thankfully. Pharah moved to block their shots at Mercy, but Zarya’s bubble blocked them for her, so Pharah boosted higher into the sky to make herself harder to hit. She shot down another concussion blast to push them back from her friends.

Bastion quickly jumped into sentry mode and rushed back from the appearing insurgents, and Zarya bubbled herself and stood in the line of sight as her beam grew in power. Reinhardt re-angled his shield to block the surprise attack and Ana threw her biotic grenade to heal the party.

Amongst the immediate reaction of curses, Ana’s voice shone through. “We need to take out the insurgents on the roof. If they get through, they’ll come at us from the back! Reinhardt’s shield can hold the main force for a bit.”

“Understood!” Pharah agreed, as she jetted over to the roof, lowering just enough to give her a clear shot.

“Knock them off,” Mercy advised, “you’ll do less damage to the roof that way.”

Pharah nodded. She prepared her next concussive blast as she lowered even further down. She blocked out the incoming fire, quickly calculating the angle to get the most of the insurgents off and instructing her targeting computer where to shoot it. She fired it and the remaining six combatants were launched from the roof.

Three of them flew directly off of the roof, with two falling on the ground below and the other flying off a cliff. The other three slammed into the rocks, and two were instantly knocked unconscious. The final attacker began to get up, only to see that his comrades had been taken out. He scrambled back towards the roof, making a desperate grab for the drill.

Pharah was doing a risk assessment of shooting a rocket at his face when she heard the sound of Mercy’s pistol from beside her. The attacker dropped, lifeless, a smoking wound through his temple. Pharah looked to Mercy for half a second, to see a deeply conflicted but determined countenance, then returned to the fight at hand.

Mercy flew to the unconscious assailants and began to tie them up before they woke. With no support, Pharah landed behind Reinhardt’s shield as they turned their fire to the larger force.

The rest of the fight was a blur, but it was a blur they were at least used to. After the initial shock of the suddenly appearing army, they were able to adjust and defeat the Organic Defense Squadron forces. Reinhardt’s shield fell soon after Pharah landed, but everyone’s individual efforts managed to pick up the slack. After half an hour of controlled shutdown the remaining insurgents fled down the mountain, where they were met by the scout crew and were promptly arrested.

After a careful scan of the perimeter revealed that this had been their whole force, the citizens of the monastery were allowed to return to their daily lives. Half of the Overwatch agents would stay behind for a few more days to make extra sure that there was no follow-up attack, while the other half would hand over the insurgents to the authorities and fly back to Gibraltar. Fareeha was among this second group.

They were loading the plane with crates and prisoners when Soldatta came to them. She was thankful for their work, and quickly spoke with Ana, as Fareeha had seen them do many times over the course of the past few days. They hugged, and then Ana motioned for Fareeha to come over before stepping away.

“Fareeha,” Soldatta greeted, “thank you for your help in protecting our collective.”

“It is my duty,” Fareeha replied, “and I am happy to do it.”

Soldatta nodded. “What is duty to you?”

Fareeha was taken aback and hesitated before responding. “It is something I am assigned to do by people who are trying to make the world better.”

Soldatta nodded again. “Interesting. Well, may I ask you for a favour, rather than a duty?”

Fareeha’s eyebrows tightened. “What favour?”

“Felyatta has informed me that they have struck up a kind of friendship with Ms. Zaryanova,” Soldatta said, indicating to where Zarya and Felyatta were saying goodbyes, “and it is my understanding that this connection has been healing for both of them. With Ms. Zaryanova returning to Gibraltar, likely to once again face our kind in combat, I do not want her to forget the lessons she has learned.”

“You want me to make sure she keeps getting better about Omnics when we get home?” Fareeha inferred.

Soldatta nodded. “Precisely. Our people committed great violence against her and her people, and so she has committed violence against ours. We see a spirit in her that can break this cycle, but we cannot see that through to its conclusion.”

Fareeha turned to Zarya and Felyatta. Zarya shook Felyatta’s hand, her face stone-fronted, before she returned to loading crates while Felyatta floated away.

“I ask this as a request, not a duty. If you are able to do it, it is appreciated, but you are not assigned anything.” Soldatta explained.

Fareeha looked back at Soldatta. “I will try.”

“Thank you,” Soldatta bowed, “that is all anyone can ask.”

“I’m grateful for the work you do here,” Fareeha added, “I think it’s important.”

“That is nice to hear,” Soldatta thanked, “perhaps one day you will come back and find your own peace.”

Fareeha hesitated, unsure how to respond. After a moment, she smiled and nodded and returned to the ship.

She was put in charge of watching the prisoners while the team loaded up and flew off. They flew into Belgrade, where an official was waiting for them with a number of armed guards. Overwatch operations were still technically illegal in Nepal, so there was an initial moment of concern. But as the ship landed and Ana got out, the official and her shook hands very nicely and the prisoners were handed over without issue.

As they began to fly back to Gibraltar, Fareeha found Angela sitting near the back row of seats and slid into the seat next to her. Angela looked up from her tablet, seemingly shaken from a fixation.

“Hey, you with us?” Fareeha teased, placing her hand on Angela’s.

Angela breathed out and looked at Fareeha, her eyes half-present. “Yes, yes, sorry.”

“It’s okay, are you alright?” Fareeha questioned. “It got intense out there.”

Angela nodded. “Yes, I think in some ways I’m better than I’ve been in some time.”

“How do you mean?”

Angela adjusted herself in her seat. “Well, I had some conversations with some of the monks at the monastery.”

Fareeha nodded, unsurprised.

“We talked about many things, but especially about violence,” she explained.

“Yeah, I was going to ask you about that,” Fareeha admitted, “on the battlefield, that was unlike you.”

“You’re right, it was,” Angela nodded, “and it did not feel good. But I think it was the right thing to do. Because otherwise you would have had to do it.”

“It’s my job, it’s what I do,” Fareeha shrugged.

“Yes, but I am not your job,” Angela countered, “I am your partner. And while I’ve always tried to support you by healing and taking care of you, I think I’ve been unfair to you.”

“I know you have a commitment to nonviolence though, and I respect that. I can’t expect you to be willing to kill for me.”

“But that is the thing, Fareeha, I expect that of you.” Angela sighed. “I expect that of everyone we fight with.”

“You came to this by talking to the monks?” Fareeha questioned.

Angela nodded. “I came to this by realizing that maybe the monks weren’t right,” she turned to face Fareeha directly, “Zenyatta and I have had many talks about philosophy, as you know.”

Fareeha nodded. It was common to find the two of them engrossed in a semi-meditative conversation at the late hours of the night.

“I don’t think I ever understood what Zenyatta meant when he talked about his disagreements with the monastery’s philosophy. They seemed so clearly justified, the monastery sounded like an excellent idea.” She paused, trying to find the words. “But there are always threats to peace. Which means there must always be someone who is willing to hurt to protect that peace.”

“Yes, of course,” Fareeha encouraged.

“And in that moment, where I figured out that if that you were to shoot that man with that rocket the roof could fall open, I realized that I needed to be that person. I signed up to join Overwatch. We have always been the group that is willing to hurt to protect peace. I fight for the same things you do, and that Zenyatta does, and that everyone in this organization does. But if I am not willing to harm people, that responsibility then falls on other people. And when you and I fly together, that responsibility falls on you.”

“So you shot the man so I wouldn’t have to?” Fareeha asked.

Angela nodded. “Yes. And it was awful. My stomach churned and my palms sweat and I felt more weight of responsibility than I ever have before.” Angela grabbed both of Fareeha’s hands with hers, “and I realized you feel that all the time you are in combat. I realized that, by not ever doing harm and only strengthening the harm you do, I am shifting more of those feelings onto you. And I can’t hurt you like that, Fareeha.”

Fareeha slumped into her seat, not knowing what to say. Angela was right, she felt that feeling every time she had to hurt or kill a hostile, but she was so used to shouldering the weight of responsibility that it didn’t even cross her mind that there was another option anymore. Everything was a question of what needed to be done, who had to be protected, what had to be destroyed, what objective needed to be completed for whatever greater good. There was never a choice. Except once.

“Mama and I were talking the other day about the choice to go into Overwatch,” Fareeha shared, “she explained to me a little better about why she didn’t want me to. She said that I was what she had always cared about most in this world, and that she couldn’t bear to see me experience the things that she had. But I had been so hot-headed, so young and reckless that I thought I could avoid all that. That if I was clever enough and fast enough that I wouldn’t end up with the scars and infections that she did.”

Fareeha breathed deep, “but she explained that she never meant the scars. She had meant this, this feeling that you’re talking about now, and all the other feelings that come with being a soldier. It wasn’t about how I would get hurt, but how I would feel all this weight, constantly.”

Angela dipped her head and nodded before looking back up at her. “I’m sorry that I didn’t figure it out sooner, Fareeha.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t even figure it out until a few days ago,” Fareeha chuckled, “last week we were planning a wedding.”

Angela snorted. “Well, we’ll get back to that eventually,” she moved her hand to Fareeha’s cheek and stroked it softly, “but maybe this needs to come up too.”

Fareeha nodded. “Let’s keep the line open.”

Angela flipped up the armrest between them and Fareeha laid her head on Angela’s shoulder. She could feel Angela’s active fingers tapping on her shoulder, as the two of them queued up something on the tablet. As the plane flew closer to Gibraltar, Fareeha breathed more deeply than she had in a long time - and she could feel Angela’s breath in sync with hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This chapter goes really introspective, which I hope other people like. It ended up being a place to work through one of the issues I see with some interpretations of Pharmercy, which is having Pharah be tough and aggressive and Angela being pure and non-violent. I love this ship, but I also think it's worth talking about how that sort of dynamic does a disservice to both characters, and to debate the actualities of violence and duty. Let me know what you think!


	7. Plan the Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of plan planning that needs to be done when you're planning a wedding...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, it's Friday! This chapter is a bit of a short one, I'll admit, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

“Alright, so,” Angela started, “I made a timeline.”

“Of course you did,” Fareeha laughed.

They were sitting at the kitchen table, on a day of downtime between missions where they’d committed to planning out the wedding planning. They were those sorts of people.

Angela reached out and connected their tablet to the jack in the middle of the table. She placed it down and a hologram appeared in the air, with a timeline outlined in blue light.

Fareeha was at once overwhelmed by the amount of things to do and thankful to be doing it with someone who was organized. The timeline went through the obvious stuff, such as finding a venue, deciding on a cake and getting wedding dresses, but it also had notes about ensuring that “everyone has nice outfits” and an “emergency week” before the wedding.

“What do you think?” Angela asked.

“Honestly Angela,” Fareeha didn’t take her eyes off the hologram, “I think it’s a lot.”

“Yes, it is,” Angela admitted, “but if we plan it out well enough, I think it can all get done.”

“Yes, but,” Fareeha pointed at the wedding day, “this is only six months away.”

“Well, I’ve accounted for mission time,” Angela reminded her, pointing to the periodic red lines titled “mission?”

“Yes, but we can’t predict those,” Fareeha pointed out, “I mean, with the way things are around here, it took me weeks to even get to propose.”

Angela tilted her head at the hologram. “Well, how would you extend the timeline?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Fareeha confessed, biting her lower lip.

“Well, okay,” Angela turned from the hologram to Fareeha, “then tell me more about your concerns.”

Fareeha turned to face her and paused. There was this feeling lodged in her chest that there was too much, and that it was impossible to plan around while they were with Overwatch. There were too many unknowns, hundreds of possible interruptions that could wreck all sorts of plans.

“I’m worried about Overwatch,” Fareeha decided.

Angela breathed a chuckle, “I’ve heard that one before.”

Fareeha laughed. “I mean the missions getting in the way.”

“Of course,” Angela smiled, “yes, that’s crossed my mind too.”

“There’s so many parts of this that are like projects” Fareeha observed, “stuff that we have to start and finish over a period of time. And I’m worried missions could interrupt those and make us have to start them over.”

“There’s always that risk,” Angela agreed, “but I think that risk exists for civilians too. And they manage it.”

“Yes, but I don’t want to just manage it, I want it to be amazing.”

“It will be,” Angela assured, “regardless of the specifics. Because we love each other.”

Fareeha stood, fidgety and finding sitting to be constraining. “Of course, yes, that’s the most important thing, but I want this to be satisfying for people.”

“Which people?” Angela probed.

Fareeha tapped her fingers together. “Everyone. All of the people who will be there.”

Angela nodded. “Well, that’s why we’re making a timeline, right?”

“Yes, but there’s so many things that could go wrong. Missions can make us miss appointments, or someone could get injured in battle, or, or,” she hesitated, “anything could happen.”

Angela frowned. “Yes, a lot of things could go wrong. Do you have any ideas on how to reduce the risks?”

Fareeha scratched her head. “I mean, we could always wait on it.”

“Wait till when?”

“Till stuff is less busy,” Fareeha shrugged.

Angela laughed in spite of herself. “Fareeha, _mien liebling_ , we are agents of Overwatch. We will never be less busy.”

Fareeha stopped pacing and turned to Angela. After a moment, she nodded with a conceding laugh.

“You’re right,” she shook her head, “I forgot that this is just our lives now.”

“Maybe not all our lives,” Angela noted, “we don’t all have to be like Reinhardt.”

“I suppose not,” Fareeha leaned on the back of her chair, “but several more decades, at least.”

A silence hung in the air as the two of them thought. It was that sort of silence that pulls your mind to the future. It buzzed with the sound of the hologram, whispered voices from other rooms, sent the wind through the windows, so imperceptible to the theoretical.

Fareeha sat back down, and the chair thumped with age. The two of them looked at the hologram and stared down at the table, trying to solve a problem that had no clear answer. Fareeha’s mind turned over and over with a way to make it secure. She couldn’t find one, but she realized what mattered to her.

She turned to Angela. “We should do it.”

Angela looked back. “Are you sure? There’s no way to guarantee it’ll turn out well.”

“No, I’m not sure,” she explained, “but I’m sure that I want to marry you, and that as long as Overwatch is around, things will be this busy. So we should do it.”

Angela smiled, then leaned in and kissed her. Fareeha lips felt electric and her heart beat fast.

“I am so excited to marry you,” Angela whispered as she pulled away. Then, she turned to the hologram.

“You know what we need? ‘To do’ lists!” She decided.

Fareeha snorted. “Alright, sure.”

Angela swiped the timeline so that it minimized to the corner, then pulled up two notepads. She wrote their names on each then looked to the timeline for duties.

The two of them filled out the lists quickly, divvying up tasks that they knew they’d mostly end up doing together anyway. At the end, Fareeha looked up at her long list and sighed.

“Can’t we just elope?” She whined.

“Do you want to tell your mother we eloped?” Angela teased.

Fareeha chuckled. “Yeah, okay.”

“Alright, first up,” Angela directed, pointing at the first point on their lists, “let’s choose a wedding party.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this fic is big and goes into relationships with lots of characters, so I like to bring it back to the Pharmercy dynamic when I can. I hope this one will hold you over! Next week is a big one.


	8. Choose the Wedding Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fareeha and Angela begin the wedding preparations in earnest as they try to track down their future bridespeople.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Friday! Really enjoyed writing this one, Fareeha is so fun to write.

Fareeha looked down at her notepad with the first two names before picking up the room phone. She dialled methodically and lifted it to her ear, feeling relief when the line clicked on.

“Hello, this is Tariq,” came the voice of her old Helix Security squadmate.

“Tar!” Fareeha greeted excitedly, “it’s Fareeha!”

“Hey, Reeha!” Tariq was exuberant, “it’s been awhile, captain!”

Fareeha smiled, “yes, it has. I’ve been busy!”

Tariq laughed, “As usual, I’m sure. How’s, uh, work?”

Fareeha nodded at his pause. Tariq still worked for Helix, and Helix wasn’t exactly on the best terms with Overwatch. When Fareeha had left for Overwatch, Saleh and Tariq had tried hard to convince her not to go. But when she did, they made her promise that she’d keep in touch, and though they hadn’t talked in a few weeks, she usually kept that promise.

“Uh, work is good!” She answered. “There’s been lots going on. You hear about Nepal?”

“Yeah! That was good work there. Okoro would’ve appreciated it,” he assured.

“Thanks, Tar,” she smiled, “I’m calling about personal, not work though.”

“Oh? Everything alright?”

“Yes! Everything’s great, actually,” she bit her lip, “is Saleh there?”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Tariq teased, “you want the big shot captain boy, huh?”

Saleh had been promoted to captain a little while after Fareeha had left Helix, and Tariq had been transferred to another squadron to prevent conflict of interest. The two, after all, had been dating for several months by that point.

“I want both of you, you jackass.” Fareeha shot back, “I have news.”

He laughed. “Alright, I’ll see if I can pull the boy away from his paperwork.”

Fareeha tapped on the bed as she waited. She felt unreasonably nervous to ask them to be two of her bridesmen, considering how long they’d been asking to arrange a visit to Gibraltar. She knew they’d say yes, but her cheeks felt hot and her chest was tight with anxiety and excitement.

After a minute, she was greeted by Tariq and Saleh, who put her on speakerphone.

“Fareeha! Hey!” Saleh greeted, stiffer than Tariq but equally as pleased.

“Hey, Saleh!” Fareeha responded.

“Riq says you’ve got news,” he prompted.

“Yes, big news!” She started, breathing in. “Angela and I are getting married.”

“Oh shit!” Tariq yelled, while Saleh let out a “wow!” They began to laugh and shout a bit.

She heard the crackling calls of excitement through the phone and began to laugh along with them.

“Fareeha, that’s amazing!” Saleh congratulated.

“Yeah, Reeha, congrats!!” Tariq added.

“Thanks, guys,” she received as her face went warm, “that means a lot.”

“When you guys stopped by here when you were in town a few months ago, I got a good feeling about you two,” Tariq encouraged.

“Yeah, I mean, I was a little worried about whether this girl was gonna be good enough for our Fareeha,” Saleh admitted, “but it seems like she makes you happy and it looks like she treats you right.”

“She does, she does,” Fareeha agreed, “and it’s getting better every day.”

“So when’s the wedding?” Tariq prodded.

“Well, we don’t exactly have the date yet, we’re still planning things. But that’s actually sorta what I’m calling about,” she paused. “I want you two to be two of my bridesmen.”

“Oh my god,” Tariq breathed, and there was a pause. 

Fareeha’s heart raced, but Saleh quickly recovered, “yes, Fareeha, absolutely yes.” His voice was soft and emotional.

Tariq came back on the line, “Reeha, we’d be honoured,” he said, his voice wavering and watery.

At their emotion, Fareeha started to feel her eyes water as well, but steeled herself. “Assuming you can make it of course.”

“Oh, we’ll make it!” They both yelled in unison, and the three of them laughed.

“Doesn’t matter what it takes, we’ll both be there,” Tariq assured her.

Fareeha smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, boys.” Then she leaned back on the bed, “so, tell me how things have been!”

* * *

 

“Hey, how did it go?” Angela asked Fareeha as the two of them passed each other in the hall.

“Great, they’re completely on board!” Fareeha smiled. “How about yours?”

“Oh, very well!” Angela explained. “Jesse started crying.”

“As expected,” Fareeha noted. “I’m off to Satya.”

“Good luck! I have to go find Lena,” she pursed her lips.

“I think you need the luck more than I do, then,” Fareeha quipped as she continued walking toward Satya’s room.

She knocked three times, then paused and knocked twice more. It was a knock Satya and her had developed to announce each other’s presence back when Satya first joined Overwatch. Satya had had a difficult adjustment when she left Vishkar, and while many people within Overwatch appreciated her, not many people were known for having the patience and care she needed. Fareeha had stepped in.

Satya opened the door quickly, and smiled at Fareeha after a moment.

“Hello, Fareeha,” she greeted.

“Hi Satya,” Fareeha smiled back, “may I come in?”

“Yes, of course,” Satya allowed, closing the door as Fareeha stepped inside.

Satya’s room was spotless, as usual. She had books upon books stacked within a bookshelf, arranged alphabetically, by subject. There was a filing cabinet, closed and locked, and Fareeha knew it was full of folders on Satya’s past special interests. She had requested a desk in her room, which had papers in two piles and a cup of ballpoint pens, and a tablet sat perfectly in the middle of it. Satya went over to the kettle on her kitchen counter and began to boil water.

Fareeha knew enough at this point not to ask to sit, and so she did at the kitchen table, and waited for Satya to come sit with her. When she was finished with the kettle, she did so.

“What did you want to discuss?” She prompted.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Fareeha explained, “about the wedding.”

Satya looked confused, “I’m not sure what I could help with about the wedding.”

“No, sorry,” Fareeha clarified, “I don’t need any advice.”

“Then what are you going to ask?” Satya pushed.

Fareeha breathed in and out slowly while Satya waited for her response.

Satya and Fareeha’s bond had initially been formed over Fareeha’s goal of integrating her into Overwatch, but it quickly became a more sincere friendship. They both knew what it was like to have duty and faith to an organization they were disagreeing with more and more. They had both experienced a lost sense of home, and the ways that imperialism and colonialism had affected those homes even before the Omnic Crisis. They understood wanting the world to be a certain way and helped each other cope when it wasn’t.

“I want you to be one of my bridesmaids at my wedding,” Fareeha spit out finally.

Satya looked at her with surprise for a moment and then smiled lovingly. “I would be honoured, Fareeha.”

“Oh thank God,” Fareeha breathed, relieved.

“Did you think I would say no?” Satya tilted her head.

“No, Satya,” Fareeha assured, “not at all, it’s just very stressful, and-” she stopped, noticing the grin Satya was unable to hide.

“You’re messing with me,” Fareeha narrowed her eyes. Satya burst into laughter. “You little shit.”

Satya slowly came down from her laughing fit, “I’m sorry Fareeha, I figured I should lighten the mood.”

Fareeha shook her head and smiled, “Satya, I was worried!”

The kettle began to boil and Satya stood, still chuckling. 

Fareeha was pleased to have gotten to this point with her, where tricks and jokes were a common. She remembered the first time they really connected, during one of their “Overwatch integration” sessions. Fareeha, Satya, Angela and a few others all agreed to play this tabletop game called Kingdoms and Skylines where you built a civilization and played through it. Most of the players grew bored of it before they’d even finished the civilization, but Fareeha and Satya were enthralled. Soon, the world had four branches of government, a complex religious pantheon, twelve warring factions and several dozen towns and cities, all completely fleshed out. Over the course of it, Fareeha and Satya became so comfortable with one another that they were nigh inseparable when they were together. They still came back to it when they needed a break, but the bond had strengthened past that, to the point they were at now.

Satya returned to the table and placed down two mugs of tea. “So what are my responsibilities as bridesmaid?”

“Oh,” Fareeha realized, “I’m not quite sure. I think it’s mostly just being there to help out with decisions and stuff, and then you stand with me and the rest of the wedding party at the ceremony.”

Satya was confused. “If you didn’t know what you wanted me to do, why did you ask me?”

“Because you’re one of my best friends, Satya.”

“Really?” Satya asked, surprised. “But you have so many friends.”

“Yes, and you’re one of the ones I’m closest to,” Fareeha answered.

Satya smiled again. “That’s nice to hear.”

“I’m glad,” Fareeha encouraged, then scratched the back of her neck, “I’m sorry that I didn’t exactly know what the responsibilities were.”

“It’s alright, we can research it,” Satya decided. “However, you look stressed. Would you like to relax by playing some Kingdoms and Skylines?”

Fareeha looked down at her watch, then up at Satya. “Yes, okay. Maybe just for an hour.”

* * *

3 hours later, Fareeha emerged from Satya’s room feeling both refreshed and sheepish. She peeked out into the kitchen and saw Angela sitting at the table, looking at her tablet. She tried to sneak down the hall to see Zarya before being noticed, but without looking up from her tablet, Angela called “I can see you, Fareeha.”

Fareeha cursed under her breath, then turned to Angela with an innocent smiling face. Angela looked up and raised an eyebrow.

“Where have you been?”

“I was with Satya.”

“For three hours?”

“Uh,” Fareeha hesitated, “she had questions.”

Angela narrowed her eyes. “Were you playing that Kingdom game again?”

Fareeha looked embarrassed, “maybe a little.”

Angela shook her head, but smiled. “Well, I got everyone on my end.” She paused. “At least, I think I did. Zenyatta is always very confusing.”

Fareeha chuckled. “Well, I’ve only got Zarya and Genji to go.”

“You may want to act fast,” Angela advised, “rumour is spreading.”

Fareeha nodded, and went over to kiss Angela, who gladly kissed her back. 

“Thanks,” she smiled, then began to jog out of the room. “Love you!” she called.

“Love you too.” Angela called back, and Fareeha could hear the loving resignation in her voice.

Fareeha found Zarya lounging on the roof, carving something out of a piece of wood.

“I was wondering when you’d come by,” she greeted as Fareeha sat down.

“You heard?” Fareeha inferred.

“Everyone has heard, Fareeha,” Zarya teased, “I was beginning to worry I had offended you somehow.”

“No, Zarya,” Fareeha sighed, “I got distracted for a bit.”

“But Angela was sitting in the kitchen,” Zarya winked at her.

“What? No!” Fareeha objected. “God, you are really making this hard.”

“It’s what I do,” she grinned.

“Do you want to be my maid of honour or what?” Fareeha asked, exasperated.

Zarya dropped the wood and looked at Fareeha shocked. “Whoa, what?”

“What?” Fareeha was confused. “You knew I was going to ask you.”

“I knew you were going to ask me to be bridesmaid, not…” Zarya trailed off.

“Oh.” Fareeha blushed. “Um, yeah, I mean, you’re very important to me, Zarya.”

Zarya smiled a heartfelt smile and picked up her piece of wood. “I am so grateful. Yes, of course I will.”

Fareeha breathed another sigh of relief. She was getting used to those.

“I have one request though.”

“What’s that?”

“I want to be called best woman,” she decided. “I think it is a deserving term.”

Fareeha laughed. “Absolutely, Zarya.”

Zarya grinned again and went back to her carving. “Who is Angela’s version of me?”

“Zenyatta, I believe,” Fareeha remembered.

Zarya frowned slightly. “Interesting choice.”

“Come on, Zarya,” Fareeha prodded, “what’s your issue with him?”

Zarya grumbled. “He is difficult to understand.”

“But you liked Felyatta.”

“Felyatta was easy to understand.”

Fareeha sighed. “We’re going to talk about this later.”

“Sure thing, mama,” Zarya teased.

Fareeha shook her head and stood. “I mean it.”

Zarya looked up at her, and after a moment she nodded.

* * *

When Fareeha returned to the kitchen, she found a number of the other Overwatch agents surrounding Angela, who seemed to be trying to quell the crowd.

Fareeha marched over to hear Hana go “we all want to do stuff too!”

“Ah, Fareeha,” Angela breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her, “our friends have expressed concerns about not having roles in the wedding.”

“We just wanna help out,” Lucio agreed.

“Okay, okay,” Fareeha pulled up a chair beside Angela, and turned to her. “What do we have open?”

“Um,” Angela looked back at her, both fully aware that they had no secure list of jobs for people. Fareeha tried to remember all of the roles she could.

“We’ll need a ring bearer!” Angela offered.

“Oh, that’s easy! I can do that.” Hana accepted.

“And a flower,” Fareeha hesitated, “person.”

Bastion beeped a few questioning beeps.

“That’s a person who lays out flowers along the aisle before the brides walk down,” Angela explained.

Bastion beeped excitedly, and Ganymede tweeted in agreement.

“Alright, let’s put Bastion down as flower...Omnic,” Fareeha decided as she noted it on their list.

“Do you guys have a DJ yet?” Lucio asked.

“How could we find one better than you?” Angela charmed.

Lucio laughed. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

“That’s very kind, thank you Lucio,” Fareeha accepted as she wrote it down.

“Well, I think that’s mostly it,” Angela tapped her finger on the table, “unless any of you can officiate.”

“I can do that,” Jack grunted from the couch.

All of the agents looked at him, confused.

“What?” Fareeha asked.

Jack turned to them. “I can officiate your wedding.”

“Jack, you’re licensed to marry people?” Angela asked, shocked.

“I’m licensed to do a lot of things, Angela,” he responded, then returned to the show he was watching on the television. All of the assembled agents looked at each other, confused.

“Well I still want to do something,” Torbjorn broke the silence.

Angela sighed. “We will try to think of things for the rest of you to do. I’m sure stuff will come up.”

There was grumbling, but the agents agreed, and Angela and Fareeha were left to themselves again. Just as they were, Fareeha stood.

“Who next?” Angela asked.

“Genji. Any idea where he is?”

Angela shrugged. “No one’s seen him for the last few hours.”

Fareeha sighed. “Here we go again.”

* * *

 

Genji was harder to find than the others. She tried his room, the meditation chamber, the sparring room and all the living spaces. She asked around until she finally learned that he was seated outside the base, on the cliff overlooking the sea. When she came, she saw him still there, hugging his knees.

“Fareeha,” he greeted, “good to see you.”

“Good to see you too,” Fareeha responded, sitting beside him.

The two of them sat there, looking out at the ocean, until Fareeha heard Genji sigh.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been absent lately,” Genji did not turn his head, “old feelings have come back to me.”

“Everyone needs some alone time, it’s alright,” Fareeha comforted. There was another pause.

“When I was 19,” he began, “I met a man named Osamu Mori.

“Osamu was a low level shipment manager for some of the illegal products our clan manufactured. He’d gotten into the job the way so many others had after the Crisis. They started off doing regular work, and then they’d accept a bit of extra cash to get things past the government, and before they knew it they were a shipment office for some clan or another.” 

Genji looked to Fareeha to ensure she was following. Fareeha nodded.

“I was instructed to go inspect his office after some rumours that he’d been refusing some jobs. Well, the rumours turned out to be true,” he chuckled, “but I didn’t care. From the moment I saw Osamu, I was entranced. And so was he.”

Genji paused and looked away slightly, then returned to his view of the sea.

“We started a relationship in secret. I would sneak out or he would sneak in, or we’d both meet up somewhere no one ever went. It was hard, but he was so worth it. When I was with him, nothing else mattered, and when I wasn’t, all I wanted was to be with him again. So the two of us decided to elope and flee Japan. It was no great loss, really, both of us wanted out of the life of crime and my family had long since stopped caring about me. Or, at least that’s what I thought.”

He adjusted his position, and Fareeha could hear mechanical groans as he laid his legs out.

“My father found out about our plan, and he sent people to deal with us both. When I heard, I tried to send a message to Osamu to tell him to get out, but I knew it was too late.” He breathed out deeply. “By the time Hanzo came to kill me, I barely even wanted to defend myself.”

Fareeha’s face was marked with shock and sadness as Genji turned to her.

“It was many years ago, and I had assumed I had dealt with it,” Genji explained, “but evidently, these things have a way of returning.”

“Genji, I’m so sorry,” Fareeha was sympathetic, “I had no idea.”

“It’s alright, Fareeha,” Genji assured, “I do not talk about it, and neither does Hanzo.”

“I hope we haven’t hurt you with all the talk of,” she hesitated, “everything.”

“No, Fareeha,” Genji comforted, “if this was to come up, nothing could have prevented it. And I am happy for you and Angela, I truly am,” he looked back out at the ocean, “but I need a bit more time.”

Fareeha nodded, eyes still tinted with sympathy. She began to stand, when Genji put his hand out.

“If you aren’t busy, would you mind staying with me a while?” He asked, his voice a little less measured than usual.

“Anytime,” Fareeha said, and sat with her friend as they looked out at the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the sad at the end! This fic is pretty fluffy, and I like to add angst to literally anything so....yeah. Hope you enjoyed it!


	9. Pick Up A Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How hard can it be to get a simple cake? A little harder when you have friends like the ones at Overwatch...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a chapter of the Overwatch agents being sweet and the love shown between them and Pharah and Mercy, we have one where they are....the other way. Sometimes you just need a chaos chapter, you know? Enjoy!

“You’re surely not just planning on going out and picking up a cake,” Torbjorn decided.

“Yes, we are?” Fareeha questioned, “we have an appointment tomorrow.”

All the agents were sat at dinner with one another, munching away on sandwiches on their first day back after a mission. Torbjorn grumbled.

“You’ve got all of us here!” He continued, “we can bake you a cake just fine!”

“I know that many of the people here are excellent cooks,” Angela defused, “but this is our wedding cake, I think it’s a bit out of the hands of military agents.”

“It’s just a cake, how hard could it be?” Jamison countered.

“Well,” Fareeha sighed, trying to take a different angle, “we’re all so busy. Many people already have tasks to be doing with the wedding! We don’t want to overload people.”

“It wouldn’t be overloading!” Lena assured, “in fact, it sounds like fun.”

Fareeha looked around at the table and saw the anticipation of most of the table. She locked eyes with Angela who shrugged, helpless.

“Well, alright. I suppose we can put a few people together to explore what they could do.”

“Excellent!” Torbjorn puffed his chest up. “Bastion and I can do it!”

“Why should they do it?” Jamison whined, “Mako and I could do it even better!”

“I think we all know that Fareeha and Angela will get Reinhardt and myself to do it,” Ana explained, “given how well we know them.”

Other people started indicating their interest until the whole table was a mess of arguing activity.

“Stop!” Angela yelled, and everyone went silent. Fareeha smiled.

“If you all want to prove you’re the best for this, why don’t we, uh,” she paused, searching.

“We should have a bake-off!” Lena suggested.

“A what?” Fareeha asked.

“A baking competition! You know, like the Great British Bake-Off!” Lena explained.

“Nobody knows that here but you, Lena,” Angela reminded.

“I know it,” Jesse corrected, “mighty fine show. Real positive.”

“Oh, so it’s not like a vicious competition,” Fareeha inferred, relieved, “it’s supportive?”

“Totally!” Lena confirmed.

“Well, since it sounds like something that won’t get out of hand, why don’t we do it!” Angela decided. The table rejoiced.

Angela looked to Jack. “We don’t have a mission tomorrow, do we Jack?”

“Gibraltar could be attacked at any time,” Jack responded, “we must always be on our guard and in fighting shape.”

“Alright, so we’ll do it tomorrow,” Angela ignored him.

People at the table began chattering excitedly, some people discussing with their partners and others figuring out who their partners would be. Fareeha looked to Angela and smiled. This was a perfect solution.

* * *

Fareeha realized it was getting out of hand when people went shopping early the next morning.

Everyone in Overwatch was used to waking up early, around 6 or 7am most days, so it wasn’t hard for people to get up early enough to snatch one of the few cars to get out and do their shopping before others rolled out. When Angela and Fareeha came out of their room in the morning, they found several teams sitting in the kitchen, simmering.

“Jesse and Hanzo took the car,” Hana whined.

“Then Ice Queen and Monkey Boy took the other one,” Jamison elaborated.

“And Jack won’t let any of us take the military transports for what he says is ‘a stupid game and a distraction from our duties’,” Satya quoted.

“Shit,” Fareeha cursed. “Well there’s gotta be other ways to transport, right? Hana, you have a mech!”

Hana scoffed. “You can’t carry groceries in-” she stopped mid-sentence, thinking about it. “Wait, Lucio, do you think…”

“Way ahead of you!” Lucio was already up and skating out the door. Hana followed quickly behind.

The other groups sighed. Angela stepped forward.

“This gives you more time to plan, yes? Figure out exact amounts and design ideas.”

“There might be some stuff you can use in the kitchen already,” Fareeha offered, “to at least get a start on some parts of it.”

The table grumbled but began to discuss their plans. Fareeha breathed a sigh of relief, and locked eyes with Angela.

“I have an idea,” Angela explained.

“For what?”

“For how we can prevent this from getting out of hand.”

Angela grabbed her hand and began to lead her down the hall.

Fareeha’s sleepy brain took a bit to catch onto the fact that they were going to Zenyatta’s room, and that he wasn’t participating. They reached his door and Angela knocked. After a moment, it slid open, revealing a still dozey Zenyatta in a pajama onesie.

“Hello girls,” he greeted, looking between them, “how are you doing?”

“Oh, we’re alright,” Angela said, in that way she spoke when she was trying to act less stressed when she was. “I was wondering if you could help us with something.”

“Always,” Zenyatta hummed, “what do you need?”

“Well, as you know, there is a baking competition happening today,” Angela explained.

Zenyatta nodded.

“We are starting to feel like it might get out of hand, and that we might not be able to prevent that,” Angela explained. Fareeha nodded, backing her up.

“So we’re wondering if you would lend your unique abilities of spreading calm and peace to prevent the participants from being aggressive towards one another,” Angela finished.

Zenyatta chuckled robotically. “Of course I will help. Allow me the opportunity to dress in more appropriate clothing and I will come meet you all in the kitchen.”

“Thank you so much,” Angela said, full of relief.

“Yes, thank you,” Fareeha seconded.

“It is not a problem. I am happy to take some of the stress off of you,” he said, perking up.

Angela and Fareeha made their way back to the kitchen and watched the teams as they waited for Zenyatta.

The ones still sitting and waiting were talking over plans or beginning to measure out the ingredients they had on hand. There was Reinhardt and Ana, who were making use of the emergency ingredients Ana had on hand to start mixing together a dough. Torbjorn was fitting Bastion with an array of cooking attachments, including a spatula and a mixer. Satya was projecting a holographic outline of a cake design, and Zarya was making suggestions. Mako was reading a book on baking while Jamison talked in his ear about all the (entirely conflicting) ideas he had. And Lena was flusteredly trying to impress her girlfriend, Emily, who was staying with them for a bit and currently was laughing as Lena ended up with flour covering her nose.

Fareeha looked out at it all and was thankful that everything was under control for now. However, she knew the limited amount of space would prove problematic, especially when the other three teams returned. She was thankful to hear Zenyatta floating in, but was taken aback when she saw his apparel.

Zenyatta had dressed in a referee uniform, with a black and white striped shirt, black pants and a small black hat. It had stains on it that he had clearly attempted to clean but had failed to do properly.

Angela stared at him, confused. “Oh, I didn’t realize…” she trailed off, lost for words. Fareeha was completely speechless.

“It was my understanding that I am to be a referee for today’s competition,” Zenyatta announced, “thankfully, I have experience being a referee, and feel qualified to monitor and ensure that everything goes smoothly.”

People looked up and tried to hold in their laughter as they stared at his outfit.

“Zenyatta, where did you get that?” Fareeha finally managed to say.

“When I was with the monastery, one of my tasks was to monitor the games of the children and new Omnics of the village,” he explained, “I was given the uniform, and kept it with me in case it was needed.”

The agents could no longer contain their laughter. Fareeha and Angela chuckled somewhat before turning to the participants.

“Alright, alright,” Fareeha started, “Zenyatta is our referee for today. Don’t be shits to each other.”

“What she said,” Angela agreed.

There was a flurry of activity as everyone called various agreements. Fareeha and Angela sat at the table and watched as their friends worked. Jesse and Hanzo came back with the car soon after, and so did Mei and Winston. Both times there were mad dashes for the cars, and thankfully everyone else was able to pile in to go get groceries.

Things were generally pretty peaceful for a while. Even after Lucio and Hana returned, nobody was aggressive towards one another and there was just enough space for everyone to fit. When the rest of the teams returned, however, stuff started to get chaotic.

Their kitchen was small, not meant to hold more than six people at a time. Suddenly, sixteen people needed to fit in it. People like Lena and Hana were able to slip in, grab their things and go somewhere else to finish their stuff, but poor Winston had managed to get stuck in the back of the kitchen. Zenyatta tried to get him out, but everyone was chattering loudly and focused too hard to hear him.

Then the arguing started. Who should have the limited counter space, whose cakes should go in the oven, who should have use of the utensils and tools.

Angela and Fareeha managed to calm things, and Zenyatta stopped everything from getting too out of hand, but a controlled chaos was still chaos. There was shoving and passive aggressive taunts and people trying to sneak stuff by other people. At some point, Torbjorn and Bastion ran down the hall carrying all of their baking supplies, and weren’t seen again for the rest of the day. Lena and Emily gave up after their first cake layer turned out dry and went back to Lena’s room. Hana and Lucio developed a rhythm to get everything done efficiently, but Lucio’s speaker got “accidentally” covered in dough and stopped working. At some point, Fareeha realized she hadn’t seen Ana for hours. Satya tried to construct a hard light oven so they wouldn’t have to fight the others, which Zarya was currently doing. Fareeha and Angela became increasingly tense as they counted down the hours before people would be done.

Everyone survived until icing, at which point everything became much more peaceful. People didn’t need to be in the kitchen and so were able to spread out amongst the waypoint. As soon as Zenyatta, Fareeha and Angela made sure that everyone put a towel down so that they didn’t dirty the floors and other tables, people were generally fine. At one point, the three mediators were even able to sit down and watch their friends ice their masterpieces.

Jamison and Mako were done first. They plopped their finished cake down on the table and Fareeha tilted her head, trying to understand what it was they had made.

It looked like the peak of a mountain, if mountains had been made by smashing boulders into cliffs. It peaked up into a bumpy cone, covered in icing absolutely everywhere, and the sides of it had little spikes jutting out in a way that Fareeha wasn’t sure was intentional. The edges of it had been sprayed with icing that splattered like it had come from a can of whipped cream, and the cake had “happy wedding!!” written around the cone.

Fareeha looked up at Jamison and Mako. Jamison had a face of excitement and pride, while Mako seemed exhausted, and slumped down in the chair opposite them.

“We made something really good I tell ya,” Jamison beamed, “it’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen.”

Fareeha looked to Angela and smiled at Jamison. “I’m,” she hesitated, looking for a compliment, “excited to try it.”

Jesse and Hanzo were next with their cake. It was a simple cake, two tiered, with uniform white icing and flowers peppered throughout it. Next to Mako and Jamison’s, it looked fantastic.

“It’s cute!” Angela decided. “Simple, very pretty!”

“Damn right it is,” Jesse grinned, then looked at Hanzo. Hanzo smiled and his cheeks went very slightly red.

Zarya carried her and Satya’s cake over and lowered it to the table, with Satya watching to make sure it did not tip. The cake was three-tiered and perfectly circular, and covered in white fondant to give it a perfectly flat surface. There were bird decorations placed every 45 **°** , with golden edging at each tier, and at the top, there was a topper with two brides meant to resemble Fareeha and Angela.

“Wow,” Fareeha stared, impressed, “this is amazing.”

“Yes, this is incredible,” Angela concurred, also staring.

“We did birds,” Zarya explained, “because you two are lovebirds.” Satya chuckled and nodded.

The others began to bring their cakes too and everyone cleared space. Mei and Winston made a cake that featured a projector that projected images of Fareeha and Angela onto the cake. Ana and Reinhardt were laughing when they brought their cake, a slightly off center but quite orderly cake with golden flowers flowing down the side. Hana and Lucio had made cutesy little figurines of Fareeha and Angela in various poses around the cake. Torbjorn and Bastion finally returned with a sturdy, thick cake that had arches along the sides. At some point, Lena and Emily snuck back into the room, Lena blushing embarrassedly for giving up.

Zenyatta looked to Fareeha and Angela. “That is everyone, correct?”

After a quick scan, they both nodded.

“Excellent.” Zenyatta flew to in front of all the competitors. “Friends, you have all done excellent work today. I hope this competition has been a fun bonding experience and stress reliever.”

Everyone looked at one another, confused at how this was supposed to have relieved stress. Fareeha sighed softly.

“Now, the brides will taste the cakes and pick their favourites.”

Fareeha and Angela locked eyes and Fareeha bit her bottom lip, oddly nervous. Angela smiled and placed her hand on her shoulder, in the way that tried to say that everything was going to be okay. They began tasting.

They cut into Torbjorn and Bastion’s cake, and Fareeha was surprised at the odd dark colouring. She took a bite and tasted burnt flour, and her and Angela both began to cough.

Bastion turned to Torbjorn and beeped angrily, who threw his hands up in the air. “Well how was I supposed to know putting it in the forge would burn it. It was worth a shot!”

Zenyatta fetched Angela and Fareeha some water, and they both drank, trying to clear the taste from their mouths. Fareeha breathed deep as they moved to the next cake.

Hana and Lucio’s cake was much more well-cooked - but entirely too sweet for Fareeha and Angela. They smiled nicely and thanked them but they locked eyes to communicate how it was just too rich.

The opposite issue appeared with Ana and Reinhardt’s cake. Even their icing flowers (which Fareeha made a point to try) were barely sweet. Fareeha could taste something familiar in it, and looked to her mom and raised her eyebrow.

“Did you guys, uh,” she paused, “use much sugar?”

“We used this great replacement that Ana knew about!” Reinhardt shared excitedly.

Fareeha knew exactly the replacement he was talking about - a very much unsweetened product called _Sugaresque_ that was meant to tone down sugary foods and reduce the health risks associated with a sugary diet. Ana had discovered it in Fareeha’s teen years and it had been the bane of her existence until she moved away.

“Ah, okay. That makes more sense,” Fareeha nodded, trying to show appreciation.

Mei and Winston’s cake was next, and while the projector very neatly managed to adjust when a slice was taken out, when it was bit into, that slice was sort of bland. It certainly was better than some of the others, but it wasn’t anything particularly special.

Zarya and Satya’s cake was similar. Everything was meshed perfectly together, but Fareeha couldn’t help but feel like something was missing.

“What recipe did you use?” Angela asked diplomatically.

“We used an old family recipe,” Zarya explained, “which Satya doubled perfectly.”

“It was not that hard,” Satya waved it away, “it was simply a matter of doubling things perfectly, and omitting the parts of it that did not work.”

Fareeha said nothing, only nodded, as they moved onto the final two cakes.

Fareeha bit into Jesse and Hanzo’s cake and recoiled, as she heard Angela curse. The crowd was taken aback slightly.

“Sorry!” Angela called out, trying desperately to swallow the cake as fast as she could. Fareeha also did so, reaching for the water to get rid of the salty taste.

“I told you you shouldn’t have tripled the salt,” Hanzo shot at Jesse.

“But the cake’s got caramel in it!” Jesse reasoned. “Salted caramel, it’s an old classic.”

Fareeha and Angela said nothing, only drank all their water.

They looked to the final cake, the messy mound of Jamison and Mako’s creation. They made eye contact with one another, trying to gauge how much danger they might be in. They slowly grabbed a piece from the cake and took a bite.

Fareeha was braced for a terrible cake, but she was not braced for this. It tasted _good_. Like, really good. The icing was sweet but not too rich, the cake inside was moist and fluffy, and there was even a fruit filling that they both thought was divine.

“Oh my God,” Fareeha reacted, savouring the cake in her mouth.

Angela was similarly pleased. “Jamison, Mako, this is incredible.”

Jamison leaned over to Mako. “Is that a good thing?” He whispered.

Mako nodded.

Jamison called out a “woohoo!” Followed by “I knew we were the best!!”

Mako said nothing.

“How the hell did you make a cake so good?” Jesse asked them.

“I brilliantly delegated the task of cake-making to Mako,” Jamison explained, “while I focused on the beautiful design that I knew we needed.”

Mako made a thumb’s up with his hand.

After finishing their piece of that cake, Angela and Fareeha looked at each other. Angela turned to everyone. “We will need a moment to deliberate and come to a decision.”

They slipped out into the hall, far away from everyone and discussed.

“So it has to be Mako and Jamie, right?” Fareeha started.

Angela frowned. “They had the best cake by a mile.”

“But it just looks…” Fareeha trailed off.

Angela nodded.

The two of them stood there for a minute and thought about it, until Fareeha had an idea.

“Well, can’t they just work on it together?” Fareeha posed.

Angela thought about it for a second, then nodded. “We could instruct them to.”

“We could get all of them to design it together and they can all help make Mako’s recipe.”

“Yes, we could. Would they go for that?”

“I mean, don’t they kinda have to?” Fareeha noted.

Angela bit her lower lip, thinking. After a moment, she nodded, recognizing that Fareeha was right. “You are brilliant.”

“I try my best,” Fareeha shrugged it off.

Angela kissed her, before the two of them moved back into the dining area.

“We have made a decision,” Angela announced, and the chatter stopped.

“We are going to ask you all to work together,” Fareeha elaborated. There were sounds of protest.

“But we had a competition!” Hana called.

“Yes, _you_ did,” Angela noted, “but that was your choice. And what that competition led us to was the realization that everyone has different strengths.”

“And so,” Fareeha explained, “you will design the cake together and make use of Mako’s recipe, with no substitutions or omissions.”

People’s protests became a low grumble as they all begrudgingly accepted the terms.

Fareeha and Angela breathed a sigh of relief and Zenyatta chirped happily.

“What an excellent result. Everyone will work together to make something better than they could make on their own.”

“I could have made it just as good if I’d had the same recipe,” Satya disagreed.

“Well, you didn’t,” Hana shot back, “and now we all have to make this thing together.”

“At least we all know that certain parts of our cakes will be present on the final product,” Winston bargained, “such as the projector Mei and I crafted.”

“Whoa, whoa there,” Jamison stopped him, “who says we’re gonna let you project stuff onto our beautiful cake and make it all weird?”

“It would look better than the mess you made,” Zarya shot back.

The grumbling began to turn into a full-blown argument. Finally, a yelled “hey!” cut them all off.

Emily stepped out from where Lena and her were leaning against the wall. “Come on, people, you’re being ridiculous!” She crossed her arms. “Fareeha and Angela have tried their very best to make this work, and make everyone do what they’re best at, but you’re all so caught up in your egos that you can’t even see it!

Really, you all could have chilled out much earlier in the day, you’ve been completely ridiculous. A wedding is very stressful to plan, and I’m sure it would be easier on the two of them if their friends would stop being so bloody aggressive!” Emily said, indicating to Fareeha and Angela.

The crowd was silent, and people shuffled and looked at each other guilty. Ana stepped forward, relieved.

“Emily is right,” Ana concurred, “we should all cooperate so that Angela and Fareeha don’t have to stress about us. We all have skills, just as we do in all parts of our life. We should use those in connection, not in competition.”

The crowd began to murmur agreements and the energy in the room lowered. Some of them began to discuss ideas much more calmly, and sat down at the table to sketch.

Lena ran up to Emily, less anxious than she’d been all day and kissed her. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Emily blushed and turned to Fareeha and Angela.

“That was incredible,” Fareeha agreed.

“Yes, thank you so much.” Angela said too.

“Oh, it was no problem,” Emily shrugged, “I helped out a lot with my sister’s wedding, I know how stressful it gets.”

“Would you be willing to help out a bit more?” Fareeha asked. “We could pay you to do some planning.”

“Fareeha, she’s only here for the next week,” Angela corrected.

“Actually,” Emily hesitated and looked to Lena. Lena nodded, and she continued. “Lena and I were trying to figure out a way to justify me staying here a bit longer.”

Fareeha and Angela locked eyes and made a silent agreement before looking back.

“We can find you some job to do around here,” Angela decided, “and that’d be more than enough to justify to Jack.”

“And then, if you’d want to, you could also help us with planning stuff.”

Emily smiled excitedly. “Yes! Absolutely yes, I’d love to!”

Lena was ecstatic. “Oh man, this is gonna be great!” She began chattering to Emily about all the things they could do once she was more permanently settled, and Emily laughed and indulged her in her ideas.

“Well that all turned out better than I expected,” Angela concluded to Fareeha.

Fareeha’s eyebrows lowered. “That was better than you expected?”

“We’re going to have a cake,” Angela noted, “and we ended up with a wedding planner too.”

Fareeha sighed. “I suppose. I’m exhausted, though. Our jobs are stressful enough, do we need to have stressful friends too?”

“Fareeha, let’s be honest,” Angela implored, “we are both just as stressful.”

Fareeha laughed as Angela put her arm around her, and they made their way back to their room to take a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the closest thing in this fic to just like...an episode of a kid's show, complete with a moral of sharing and friendship :P hope you enjoyed it!


	10. Make Invites, Send Invites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A totally chill day making invites!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're halfway through! Who's excited to see this through to the end?

Emily managed to find a place doing odd jobs around Gibraltar that weren’t being done by the maintenance robots Torbjorn had fixed up. When she wasn’t doing that (or spending time with Lena, who was even happier than usual with her around), she was helping Fareeha and Angela, who were gradually having to cope with the realization that this was actually happening.

“Alright, so here’s what I’m thinking,” Emily started, her presentation clicking on the projector.

On the screen was the timeline they’d organized made into larger boxes with suggestions and details under each point.

“We should start out with something small,” she indicated to the first point, “such as invites.”

“Shouldn’t we wait until we have a venue to decide on who is receiving invitations?” Angela suggested.

“Well see, you could,” Emily conceded, “but it’s easier to decide on how many people you want there and then choose a venue that fits that. Unless you have a venue you’re thinking of already.”

Fareeha and Angela looked at each other and both shook their heads.

“Excellent! So, invites,” Emily decided. “How many people are you thinking of inviting?”

“Around ninety,” Fareeha said. 

Angela nodded.

“Alright, so it’ll be about a hundred,” Emily corrected.

“What?” Fareeha was confused.

“You always have to add a bit to your estimates,” Emily explained, “because either there’s people you forgot, or more people bring people than you expect, or someone’s family member ends up inviting their friends.”

Fareeha looked to Angela and shrugged, “alright.”

“Have you chosen a theme or colour scheme for the wedding yet?” Emily asked.

Fareeha looked to Angela, and neither of them had an answer.

“Well, let’s figure that out,” Emily suggested.

The three of them discussed and figured out a scheme involving a mix of gold, royal blue and white. They came up with some ideas of decorations involving embroidery, accents, and a general feeling of flowiness. With that in mind, they decided on royal blue and white invite designs with a golden embroidered arch and curling script. Emily instructed them to figure out who they were inviting, and make their invites as they did.

Fareeha and Angela were both perfectionists. Between the agents of Overwatch, Fareeha’s friends from home and Angela’s former colleagues across the world, they were both meticulous in making sure not to forget anyone. So meticulous, in fact, that they didn’t notice the ringing bell that indicated an emergency mission.

“Fareeha, Angela!” Reinhardt yelled down the hall, “we have a mission!”

They were shaken from their seats and looked around. Realizing, they rushed to their rooms to grab their things and change into their uniforms, then ran towards the hanger.

“This is what I worry about,” Fareeha shared as they took off, “that we’re just gonna be interrupted all the time.”

Angela screwed her wings into the spots on her suit. “It’s alright, Fareeha. We will just do them later.”

“We’ll be exhausted later,” Fareeha countered as she assembled her Raptora suit and stepped in.

“Then tomorrow,” Angela bargained, “there’s always tomorrow.”

Fareeha sighed as the armour clicked into place around her. “I guess. Until the wedding day, at least.”

Angela breathed in deeply as the two of them sat down in the jet, both fully armoured. Then, Angela’s head perked up.

“You know, I have my laptop with me.”

Fareeha looked at her, confused, before realizing what she meant.

“Angela, we’re on our way to a mission.”

“ _ On our way _ to a mission, yes,” Angela looked in Jack’s direction.

“Jack! Where’s our mission?”

“Numbani, Angela,” Jack grumbled, “Talon, under the orders of Doomfist, has attacked Numbani to steal the Doomfist. Haven’t you been paying attention?”

“Of course, Jack,” she waved off, then looked at the ground, “alright, Numbani, that gives us a bit of time.”

She opened her bag and took out her laptop.

Fareeha laughed. “This is ridiculous, Angela.”

“Not as ridiculous as you might think,” Angela shared, “back in the day, you would not believe how many medical articles I got done to and from missions.”

Fareeha looked at her, tucking her messy hair behind her ear, her face illuminated by the computer screen. She smiled.

“I’d believe it.”

Angela looked back up at her and smiled as well. Then, she looked back down at the laptop.

“Alright, so who else from Cairo?”

They were able to work on the invites for about thirty more minutes, both of them dressed in armour and surrounded by their fellow agents. The others chuckled at them, but let them do what they needed to. Even Jack made no comments. They were satisfied with their progress, getting through almost all of the rest of them before they passed above Nigeria, and Angela put the laptop away.

The agents all stood and prepared themselves. Angela kissed Fareeha before she put her headpiece on. Fareeha smiled and put on her helmet, and her visor lit up all around.

* * *

They landed at the Numbani airport and rushed in to find the destroyed remains of OR15 units all around. Pharah saw several officials scattered and anxiously discussing, and one met the agents near the doors.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” he brought them in.

“Where is the Talon force?” Ana asked.

“We aren’t entirely sure,” he admitted, “they’re slippery bastards, and we’re receiving reports all around the city.”

“Understood,” Jack nodded, “let’s spread out. Everyone, get into your usual squadrons, we’ll position you to investigate as many of these reports until we find the main force.”

Pharah found Mercy, Zarya and Bastion who had been solidified as squadmates after Nepal. The four of them were given their area to search, and Pharah pulled it up onto her UI display before the four of them rushed off.

They were positioned down a long road with a set of balconies that looked out into the street. Mercy and Pharah were instructed to search the upper apartments and balconies, while Zarya and Bastion took the bottom ones.

None of them found any sign of any agents, but Pharah soon received a crackling distress call from Zarya.

“Help! We’re locked down, need backup!” She yelled.

“Alright, we’re on our way!” Pharah responded.

Pharah looked at Mercy who nodded, and the two of them flew down to where Zarya was pinging on the map. As they landed, Pharah was confused at the lack of gunshots, but assumed that maybe it was simply farther in. The two of them ran in to see Zarya and Bastion standing there, completely unharmed.

“What? Has something happened?” Zarya asked, concerned.

Pharah gave her a confused look. “No, you were the ones who called for help. Are you okay?”

Bastion beeped a few notes and Mercy’s brow furrowed. Zarya tilted her head.

“We are fine, we did not call for help.” Zarya explained.

Pharah’s eyes went wide as she realized the trick. Suddenly the doors on either side of the room closed shut.

“Hola, amigos,” came a voice from all around them.

Suddenly, the vents started spewing a purple gas. Pharah’s sensors immediately lit up with alerts, identifying it as a lethal poison.

“We need help!” Pharah yelled into her communicator, but no one responded.

“Does anybody read me?!” She tried again. “This is Agent Pharah, our squadron needs help.” Still nothing.

“Lo siento, Fareeha,” the voice taunted, “no one is coming to help you.”

Pharah cursed. The gas was climbing higher, and she could see Zarya and Mercy starting to look faint. She looked directly as Bastion.

“Bastion, are you affected by this?”

Bastion shook his head.

Pharah saw Mercy and Zarya fall to the ground, and her heart pounded in her chest. She knew her suit had some self-contained oxygen, but not much.

“Okay,” she rushed over to the nearby door as her system started to indicate a malfunction, “I don’t have long, let’s get this door open.”

She tried to pull the door back up, but the Raptora’s strength couldn’t manage it. She indicated to Bastion to help her pull as she felt beads of sweat drip down her face.

Bastion bent down and the two of them pulled. She could feel herself starting to get drowsy, but she sat on the floor and pushed up on the handle near the floor. After a minute or so, they finally managed to pop the door slightly, but Pharah was getting very woozy. She tried to get up to pull it the rest of the way, but her body wouldn’t respond. Her last sight before she passed out was Bastion turning into a turret and aiming at the door.

* * *

She woke up in a bed, and sat up fast. She glimpsed a blurry view of the medical bay on the dropship before her headache forced her back down.

“Whoa, not so fast,” Lucio cautioned, rushing to her side. “Zen! Fareeha’s up!”

It took a minute for Fareeha to remember what had happened. It all came back to her in a flood of memories as she began to breathe quickly.

“Where’s Angela? Where’s Zarya?” she panicked.

“It’s alright, they’re alright,” Lucio comforted, “Bastion got you all out of there.”

“Is Bastion alright?” Fareeha worried.

“Bastion is completely well,” Zenyatta explained, as he placed his hand on her forehead. Rather than being the cold metal someone might expect, it felt warm and comfortable, and she began to calm down.

“Bastion blasted through that door with his turret,” Lucio explained, “and scared off Widowmaker with another couple rounds.”

“Widowmaker was waiting for us?” Pharah questioned.

She could see Lucio nodding, her eyes finally clearing. “She was supposed to take y’all out, once you were weakened from the poison.”

“Fucking Talon,” Fareeha muttered. Then she looked up to Lucio and Zenyatta. “Are the others awake?”

“Angela was the first to awaken,” Zenyatta explained, indicating to a bed farther in.

Fareeha looked over to see Angela laying on her bed, staring at Fareeha, concerned.

“Zarya’s still out, but she’s stable,” Lucio explained.

Fareeha went to indicate something to Angela, but was interrupted when she saw her mother rush down the stairs.

“Oh thank Allah,” Ana explained, going over and hugging her daughter, “I’m so glad you are okay.”

Fareeha smiled as she hugged her mother back.

After a moment, she let her go and began checking her over.

Fareeha was anxious, wanting to see Zarya to ensure she really was safe and sound. But she was engaged to a doctor and the daughter of a medic, so she was used to waiting through medical tests.

Angela, however, did not. When Fareeha looked back over to her, she saw Angela sitting on the side of the bed, her feet on the ground.

“Whoa, whoa!” Lucio rushed to her side, “you're not ready to get up yet.”

“Fareeha is awake,” Angela croaked out, “I'm going to see her.”

Her voice was weak, and Fareeha could see she was even paler than usual. But she was determined, and stood with Lucio’s support.

“Come on, Angela,” Lucio scolded, “you're the doctor, you should know not to overdo it.”

Angela said nothing, simply stumbled towards Fareeha’s bed.

“Fareeha,” Ana tried to get her attention “hold still. I need to inject you with a toxin cleanser.” She indicated to the needle in her hand.

Fareeha nodded her consent, and felt a slight pain in her arm as she continued to stare at Angela.

Angela made it to the end of her bed and leaned on the set of the bars. She studied her, her face as concerned as it was sickly, and she tried her best to stay upright.

“You're okay,” Angela breathed, “you're alive.”

Fareeha nodded slowly, “so are you.”

Angela’s legs trembled and she indicated to the edge of Fareeha’s bed, near the bottom. Fareeha nodded, and she sat. Lucio breathed a sigh of relief.

“Alright, no more walking around until we flush this gas out,” Lucio ordered.

“What was that gas?” Fareeha asked.

Ana touched the side of her head and Fareeha looked at her. She shone a light in Fareeha’s eyes as Zenyatta explained.

“We are unaware of exactly what type of gas it was. It appears to be a new creation from a Talon scientist.”

Fareeha heard Angela curse. “Moira.”

“That's not possible,” Ana disagreed, now looking into Fareeha’s ears, “Moira is in Oasis.”

Fareeha coughed, “she could be working with both.”

“Or selling her research to Talon,” Angela agreed, “this seems like her design.”

“It is certainly prototypical,” Ana conceded, “or else I think it'd be much harder to get it out of your systems.”

“What about the voice?” Fareeha could feel the scratchiness of her own voice. “How did it shut down our comms?”

The bed across the way from Fareeha groaned, and Lucio and Zenyatta rushed to assist the awakening Zarya.

“Sombra,” Zarya coughed, “it was Sombra.”

Fareeha had heard about the Sombra collective before - they were a group of powerful hackers who were able to hack into practically everything and do practically anything. She hadn't known, however, that Zarya had experience with them.

“Slow down,” Lucio repeated for the third time, “you can get into that in a bit.”

Zarya grumbled but stopped talking. Lucio put his hand on Zarya’s forehead and she sighed calmly.

Over the rest of the evening, the three of them gradually began to recover. At some point, Fareeha heard people enter the ship, and felt it begin to take off. Even when the three of them no longer needed immediate care, Ana didn't leave their sides.

“They got the Doomfist, didn't they?” Fareeha finally asked.

Ana nodded. “But everyone is alive, and that's what matters.”

Fareeha sighed but nodded. A few years ago, she wasn't sure she would've agreed.

They all looked much less pale and sickly by that point, and all were sitting up. Fareeha’s lungs felt less smokey, and her headache was slowly subsiding.

“Sombra,” Zarya repeated, “Sombra is the one who trapped us.”

“The one?” Fareeha questioned. “Isn't Sombra a collective group?”

Zarya shook her head. “She is one person, and I have met her.”

“You've met her?” Angela questioned, surprised.

Zarya nodded. “She attempted to blackmail Katya Volskaya. I was sent to track her down, and I did. And she is a motherfucker.”

“When you are more well,” Ana asked, “would you be willing to tell us what you know about her?”

Zarya nodded. “I have much to say about Sombra.”

They heard mechanical noises from outside the room, and suddenly Bastion’s head poked around the doorframe. Seeing everyone awake, he chirped happily and moved into the doorway. He surveyed everyone, Ganymede tweeting excitedly on his shoulder.

“Hello Bastion,” Angela responded brightly, “it's good to see you.”

He chirped a few more notes as the others (even Zarya) greeted him.

“Yes, we are all doing alright,” Angela explained, “thanks to you.”

“Yes, thank you,” Fareeha added genuinely, “you saved our lives.”

“You did well, Omnic,” Zarya nodded to him.

Bastion sat down on one of the empty beds and explained what had happened.

Ganymede never went into enclosed spaces - always too aware of the dangers of them. So when the comms went down and the doors slammed shut, Ganymede had been outside, and at Bastion’s frantic beeping, went to alert the others and lead them back.

Meanwhile, when Fareeha had passed out, Bastion had had a stress reaction and went into turret mode and chewed through the rest of the door. When his sensors picked up on a hostile above, he aimed his turret there until it fled. At that point, he began to shove each of them through the opening he'd made in the door, until the others arrived, cut through the rest of the door and took them to safety.

“Sombra did not shut down your sensors?” Zarya asked, confused.

Bastion shook his head and beeped.

Angela’s brow furrowed. “He says...can you say that again, Bastion?”

Bastion repeated the beeps.

“He says he is different from other Omnics,” Angela interpreted, “his programming, his self.”

“Hmph,” Zarya nodded, then looked down at the ground, “that is an advantage for us, at least.”

“Yes, but we’ll need to be more careful going forward,” Ana advised, “now that we know Talon has a world-class hacker.”

Everyone sat in silence and looked at each other. Ana got up to check all of their vitals.

Fareeha couldn’t help but feel a bit stupid about the whole situation. After all, she had been the person who’d decided to go check on them. But she didn’t dare voice this discomfort, not to this room of people who would never let that thought stay in her brain.

By the time they arrived at Gibraltar, they were all well enough to walk back into the base, and once they were examined in the medical bay and cleared of any contagious toxins, they were allowed to slump into the couches and chairs in the general living area.

“What now?” Fareeha asked, looking around at all of them.

There was a pause. Tense energy hung in the air. Fareeha’s body hardly felt bad now, just tired. But her mind whirled with guilt and worry and frustration, and her head sank.

“Hey,” Angela bumped her shoulder, “what do you need?”

Fareeha sighed. “A break.”

Angela nodded and put her arm around Fareeha. Fareeha leaned on her as someone turned on the TV. They fell asleep to the chattering noise, Fareeha on Angela’s shoulder, Zarya passed out in the comfy chair and Bastion plugged into the wall. No one woke them until the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta love the sad and serious! Hope you enjoyed worrying about the deaths of the protagonists of this wedding planning fic!

**Author's Note:**

> Woohoo!! :D Hope you're enjoying the fic, I'll be posting a chapter every Friday until it's done! If you want to find me on tumblr, I'm nazgulkoopa there too and I occasionally post Overwatch stuff so y'know, feel free to follow me up.


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